Division  F Z 2<  I 7 
Section  .B64 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2016 


https://archive.org/details/menmannersmorals00blan_0 


MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 
IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


Frontispiece. 


IN  THE  SHADE  OF  THE  BIG  PARAISO 


Men,  Manners  & Morals 
in  South  America 

BY 

J.  O.  P.  BLAND 


/'v- 


ILLUSTRATED 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER’S  SONS 


1920 


Printed  in  Great  Britain 


CONTENTS 


CHAP. 

I. 

INTRODUCTORY  .... 

• 

• 

PAGE 

I 

II. 

OUTWARD  BOUND 

• 

13 

IIIv 

RIO  AND  PETROPOLIS  . 

• 

41 

IV,- 

POLITICS  EN  PASSANT  . 

• 

60 

V. 

IN  AND  ABOUT  SAO  PAULO  . 

• 

• 

68 

VI. 

BUENOS  AIRES  .... 

• 

• 

93 

VII. 

UP  THE  PARANA  : A GLIMPSE  OF  THE 

CHACO 

AUSTRAL 

117 

VIII. 

THE  DELECTABLE  CITY  OF  ASUNCION 

• 

141 

IX. 

ASUNCION  TO  MONTEVIDEO  OVERLAND 

• 

• 

166 

X. 

URUGUAY  : SOME  REFLECTIONS  ON 

GOVERNMENT 

THE 

ART  OF 

185 

XI. 

CHIEFLY  ABOUT  WOMAN 

• 

• 

202 

XII. 

MONTEVIDEO  .... 

• 

• 

217 

XIII. 

ESTANCIA  LIFE  IN  URUGUAY 

• 

• 

234 

XIV. 

THE  SON  OF  THE  SOIL 

• 

• 

258 

XV. 

TRIBES  ON  OUR  FRONTIERS  . 

• 

• 

285 

INDEX  ..... 

. 

3” 

V 


AUTHOR’S  NOTE 


For  some  of  the  best  photographs  used  as  illustrations  in 
this  book,  the  author  desires  to  express  his  grateful  thanks 
to  Miss  Kathleen  Petty,  of  Buenos  Aires;  to  Mr.  D.  Mac- 
gillycuddy,  of  the  Estancia  “ Canta  Fiero”  (Uruguay);  and 
to  Mr.  Charles  H.  Pratt,  of  Rio  de  Janeiro  and  New  York. 


ERRATA 

The  correct  titles  of  the  illustrations  facing  pages  126  and  142 
respectively  are: 

Facing  Page  126:  Native  Indian  dwellings  in  the  Chaco  Austral. 
Facing  Page  142:  (left)  Corrientes  (Argentina)  seen  from  the  river. 
Facing  Page  142:  (right)  Native  huts  in  the  Chaco. 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


Facing 

IN  THE  SHADE  OF  THE  BIG  PARAISO  . . Frontispiece 

SUNSET  OVER  RIO  BAY  ......  40 

IN  RIO  HARBOUR  .......  48 

A TURCO  PEDLAR  .......  64 

A HAWKER  OF  BRUSHES  AND  BROOMS,  RIO  . . . 64 

RUFFO,  THE  SHEEP-SHEARER  ......  64 

A PEDLAR  OF  TIN  AND  IRON  WARE  ....  64 

A PICNIC  IN  THE  WOODS  ......  76 

THE  PLAZA  CONGRESS,  BUENOS  AIRES  ....  96 

A “CARNE  CON  CUERRO,”  ARGENTINA  . . . . I16 

CORRIENTES  (ARGENTINA)  SEEN  FROM  THE  RIVER  . . 126 

THE  WHARF  AT  ASUNCION,  PARAGUAY  . . . .142 

THE  CITY  HALL,  ASUNCION  ......  142 

CROSSING  A RIVER  IN  THE  DRY  SEASON,  URUGUAY  . . 166 

VIEW  NEAR  COLONIA,  URUGUAY  .....  186 

A MODEL  ESTANCIA:  HORSES  AT  PASTURE,  “ CANT  A FIERO  ” 212 

A MODEL  ESTANCIA:  A RIVERSIDE  POTRERO,  “ CANTA  FIERO  ” 212 

A MODEL  ESTANCIA  I HEREFORD  CATTLE  AT  “ CANTA  FIERO  ” 234 

THE  ESTANCIA  UP-TO-DATE:  “ LOS  CORALES,”  RAFAELO, 

SANTA  FE,  ARGENTINA  ......  234 

A LAGUNA  OF  THE  MACIEL  ......  24O 

vii 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


viii 

Facing  page 


LOADING  THE  WOOL  CLIP  ......  244 

THE  CAPATAZ  ........  250 

BENITA  . . . . . . . . . 250 

LUNCHEON  TIME  AT  THE  BRETE  .....  260 

PLOUGHING  UP  “eSPARTILLO”  CAMP  ....  260 

A LAGUNA  ON  THE  SAN  SALVADOR  . . . .266 

GAUCHOS  AT  DRABBLE  STATION,  CENTRAL  URUGUAY  . . 280 

“pANTALEOn” — A PEON  ......  280 

A GAME  OF  PELOTA  .......  288 


CHAPTER  I 


INTRODUCTORY 

Having  regard  to  the  present  parlous  price  of  paper  and 
to  the  patience  of  much-suffering  readers,  the  perpetration 
of  yet  another  book  on  South  America  might  appear  at 
the  outset  to  call  for  some  explanation,  if  not  for  apology. 
The  list  of  books  published  under  this  heading  in  recent 
years  is  indeed  so  formidable  that  the  world  may  well  be 
weary  of  it.  From  the  library  catalogue  point  of  view,  the 
subject  might  well  seem  to  have  been  exhausted,  every 
part  of  the  continent  having  been  ransacked  and  described, 
all  its  words  and  works  recorded.  Yet,  how  few  there  be 
amongst  all  these  works  (as  some  of  us  know  to  our  cost) 
that  properly  and  worthily  inculcate  the  profitable  exercise 
of  travel,  or  that  appeal  to  and  justify  the  wandering 
instinct  of  rational  man ! Say  what  you  will,  the  great 
majority  of  them  are  so  dreadfully  infected  with  stodgy 
commercialism,  so  monumentally  useful,  that  their  general 
effect  upon  the  mind  (unless  it  be  the  mind  of  a bagman) 
can  only  be  compared  to  a surfeit  of  suet  pudding.  Here 
and  there  only,  rari  nantes,  amidst  all  these  dreary  voliunes, 
will  you  find  the  sort  of  company  for  which  the  Lord  of 
Montaigne  looked  (alas,  how  oft  in  vain  !)  in  all  his 
journeyings — that  “rare  chance  and  seld-seene  fortune, 
but  of  exceeding  solace  and  inestimable  worth,”  to  wit, 
“ an  honest  man,  of  singular  experience,  of  a sound 
judgment  and  of  manners  conformable  to  yours,  which 
company  a man  must  seek  with  discretion  and  with  great 
heed  obtaine,  before  he  wander  from  home,”  ay,  even  in 

B 


2 MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

the  spirit.  I make  no  claim,  in  this  desultory  narrative 
of  uneventful  journeys,  to  provide  company  of  that  rare 
refreshing  kind;  but  at  least  I hope  to  follow  modestly 
and,  if  it  may  be,  profitably,  in  the  path  of  that  prince 
of  travellers,  of  him  who  believed  that  there  is  “ no  better 
school  to  fashion  a man’s  life  than  incessantly  to  propose 
unto  him  the  diversities  of  so  many  other  men’s  fives, 
customs,  humours  and  fantasies,  and  make  him  talk  or 
apprehend  one  so  perpetual  variety  of  our  nature’s  shapes 
or  formes.” 

A strange  thing,  surely,  this  modern  obsession  for 
encyclopaedic  information  about  trade  and  manufactures, 
this  all-pervading  blue-book  stodginess  of  statistics,  which 
permeate  the  works  compiled  by  laboriously  travelling 
politicians,  economists  and  globe-trotters,  concerning 
lands  which  (could  they  but  discern  them  rightly)  afford 
matter  for  philosophical  speculation  at  every  turn  of  the 
road  or  river.  It  is  only  another  proof,  I suppose,  of  the 
lamentable  truth,  that  one  of  the  chief  results  of  our 
vaunted  civilisation,  of  all  our  labour-saving  and  man- 
killing devices,  is  to  deaden  the  mind  of  man  to  the  things 
that  matter,  to  deprive  us  of  those  spiritual  activities  and 
adventures  that  are  the  proper  business  of  fife,  and  to 
destroy  our  perception  of  relative  values.  How  else  shall 
we  account  for  the  fact  that,  with  the  exception  of  one  or 
two  naturalists  like  Waterton  and  Hudson,  or  wandering 
word-artists  like  Cunninghame  Graham  and  Knight,  all 
those  who  have  written,  and  are  writing  about  South 
America,  seem  to  be  completely  obsessed  by  the  com- 
mercial and  industrial  possibilities  of  the  country  ? I am 
not  referring,  mark  you,  to  the  works  written  by  hungry 
hacks  to  the  order  of  South  American  politicians  and 
financiers,  of  those  magnificently  bound  volumes  which 
confront  you  in  hotel  lounges  and  steamer  saloons  (the 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


3 


ground  bait  used  by  company  promoters  and  Ministers  of 
Finance  to  attract  capital),  that  read  for  all  the  world 
like  prospectuses  for  investors,  and  deserve  to  be  treated 
as  such.  I am  speaking  of  the  standard  works  of  reputable 
men,  even  men  of  high  degree,  like  Lord  Bryce,  who  went 
there  to  learn,  or  M.  Clemenceau,  who  went  there  to 
lecture,  not  to  mention  the  lesser  fry  of  honest  journalists 
and  hona  fide  travellers.  All  alike  seem  to  revel  in 
compiling  soporific  statistics  of  marketable  products,  in 
recording  the  increase  of  whizzing  machinery  and  the 
building  of  railways  and  grain  elevators,  just  as  if  the 
entire  population  of  these  delectable  lands  lived  and  had 
their  being  for  the  sole  purpose  of  producing  pabulum 
and  raw  materials  to  feed  our  feverish  industrialism. 
How  drearily  great  the  host  of  writers  who  have  gone 
steadily  from  one  end  of  the  continent  to  the  other,  faith- 
fully describing  the  present  and  potential  resources  of 
each  Republic,  singing  paeans  of  praise  to  the  “ produc- 
tivity of  capital,”  as  if  Brazil  and  Chile,  Argentina  and 
Uruguay,  had  been  created  and  developed  solely  so  that 
congested  Europe  might  draw  from  them  sustenance  and 
absolution  for  its  economic  and  social  sins  ! Throughout 
all  their  dismal  pages,  you  hear  no  sound  of  laughter,  no 
echo  of  the  Gaucho’s  guitar,  nor  any  of  the  songs  of  Old 
Spain  that  have  lingered  melodiously  in  the  pampas  since 
the  days  of  the  Conquistadores.  These  scribes  deal  not 
with  the  humanities,  make  no  attempt  to  look  beneath 
the  surface  of  men’s  lives,  to  tell  us  of  the  things  that  are 
eternally  important,  of  the  way  of  a ship  upon  the  sea,  or 
the  way  of  a serpent  on  the  rock  and  the  way  of  a man 
with  a maid.  And  yet  man  in  South  America,  even  though 
he  descend  not  to  the  mental  state  of  an  amalgamated 
Engineer,  is  just  as  worthy  of  study  as  he  is  elsewhere; 
to  regard  him  solely  as  a wheat-producing,  cattle-raising 


4 MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

machine  is  merely  to  proclaim  that,  because  of  life,  we 
ourselves  have  lost  the  secret  and  art  of  living.  What 
we  should  ask  travellers  to  tell  us  is  not  what  the 
country  produces  per  capita — there  will  always  be  official 
automata  in  Government  offices  to  compile  these  fearful 
records — but  how  the  native  lives,  what  are  the  rational 
purposes  of  his  existence,  what  his  dreams,  and  the 
subjects  of  his  noontide  speculation. 

It  is  not  as  if  these  countries  did  not  provide  plenty 
of  fresh  and  fruitful  subjects  for  speculation  and  much 
matter  for  our  learning.  Agassiz  and  Humboldt  are  there 
to  prove  the  contrary,  to  show  that  a traveller  may  be 
concerned  with  things  profitable  to  commerce  and  yet 
remain  alive  to  the  humanities.  Here,  as  in  the  Old 
World,  the  stones  have  their  profitable  sermons  and  the 
running  brooks  their  books.  Here,  he  that  has  eyes  to 
see  and  ears  to  hear,  may  contemplate  mankind  in  the 
making,  may  look  forward  and  descry  this  continent, 
veritable  heir  presumptive  of  the  ages,  gathering  unto 
itself  the  wealth  and  the  culture  of  Europe.  Here  one 
may  stand  and  watch,  from  the  strangers'  gallery,  many 
interesting  phases  of  the  human  comedy — the  curious  and 
yet  eminently  logical  results  of  the  working  out  of  Europe’s 
pohtical  and  social  nostrums,  transplanted  to  soils  for 
which  they  were  never  intended.  Here  one  may  see  to 
what  base  uses  the  worldly  wisdom  of  Rousseau  and  Mill, 
of  Lloyd  George  and  Jaures,  may  be  converted  when 
applied  to  races  essentially  incapable  (in  their  present 
stage)  of  representative  self-government.  One  may  see, 
as  in  a moving  picture,  the  modification  and  fusion  of 
ancient  European  types — Spanish,  Basque,  Portuguese 
and  Italian — slowly  but  surely  yielding  to  climatic 
conditions  and  intermarriage.  A journey  up  the  Parani 
river  is  as  interesting  in  this  respect  as  the  journey  from 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


5 


Moscow  eastwards  by  the  Siberian  Railway,  through  those 
regions  where  East  and  West  meet  and  insensibly  merge. 

In  these  days  of  universal  upheaval,  the  traveller 
interested  in  political  systems  may  contemplate  in  South 
America  the  triumphant  emergence  of  the  Graeco-Latin 
ideal  and  the  ignominious  eclipse  of  Germany’s  pinchbeck 
and  poisonous  Kultur ; also  he  may  observe  the  struggles 
of  that  exotic  growth  “ Pan-Americanism,”  a Washington 
State  Department  dream,  foredoomed  for  all  its  vividness 
to  futihty  in  lands  where  the  soul  of  the  people  holds 
firmly  to  the  Latin  ideal.  He  may  study  the  growth  of 
socialism  in  the  great  cities  which  live  by  the  labour  of 
the  unsophisticated  " camp.”  Or  he  may  observe  the 
development  of  party  politics,  with  all  the  tricks  of  that 
evil  trade,  and  the  systematic  exploiting  of  productive 
industry  by  an  unusually  attractive,  but  none  the  less 
pernicious,  type  of  demagogue. 

But  above  all  these,  in  perennial  interest  and  value, 
there  is  the  son  of  the  soil,  the  man  in  the  streets  of  Rio  de 
Janeiro,  and  Sao  Paulo,  of  Buenos  Aires  and  Montevideo, 
the  peon  of  the  camp,  the  light-hearted,  hard-working, 
philosophical  hijo  del  pais  ! Speaking  without  prejudice, 
and  from  experience  based  chiefly  on  observation  of  the 
natives  of  Uruguay  and  Argentina,  I should  say  that  the 
peon  of  South  America,  like  his  social  equivalents  in  China 
and  Japan,  has  a keener  appreciation  of  the  things  that 
make  life  worth  living,  a more  philosophical  perception  of 
relative  values,  than  a Manchester  mechanic  or  a Glasgow 
riveter.  He  certainly  has  preserved,  far  better  than  the 
denizens  of  our  drained  and  paved  ant-heaps,  a more 
abiding  sense  of  the  wonder  and  mystery  of  existence  and 
of  the  ” glory  of  the  universe.”  He  does  not  need  to  kill 
time  ; he  " makes  ” it  (to  use  his  own  word),  and  when 
the  day’s  work  is  done,  or  even  while  he  is  doing  it,  he  can 


6 


MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


take  a disinterested  and  genuine  delight  in  simple  things. 
He  knows  something  of  the  joie  de  vivre  and  of  the  love 
of  beauty  for  beauty’s  sake.  Even  as  a Japanese  crafts- 
man, he  brings  a measure  of  aesthetic  enjoyment  to  his 
daily  task  and  can  manifest  its  spirit  in  the  work  of  his 
hands. 

Therefore,  it  seems  to  me,  that  despite  the  crowded 
state  of  our  bookshelves,  there  may  be  justification  and 
room  for  a book  that  shall  endeavour  to  speak  of  men 
and  things  in  South  America  from  the  hmnan,  rather  than 
the  commercial,  point  of  view.  For  the  great  host  of 
traveUers  who  shall  hereafter  make  their  way,  either  for 
business  or  edification,  to  the  lands  of  the  Surplus  Loaf,  it 
is  surely  advisable  that  every  ship’s  library  should  contain 
at  least  one  book  about  these  lands,  that  a man  may  read 
without  being  reminded  of  his  investments.  To  tell  the 
truth,  our  ships’  hbraries  very  seldom  contain  anything 
new  or  interesting  about  the  countries  to  which  they 
carry  us.  Even  those  of  the  Royal  Mail  give  the  im- 
pression of  having  been  selected,  towards  the  close  of  the 
Victorian  era,  by  a cautious  purser  with  one  watchful  eye 
on  the  Company’s  purse  and  the  other  on  Mrs.  Grundy. 
The  bulk  of  the  collection  is  usually  in  English,  and 
consists  of  samples  of  Scott,  Dickens,  and  other  respectable 
classics,  supported  by  modern  stalwarts  of  the  Rider 
Haggard,  Conan  Doyle,  Hall  Caine,  Wells,  Marie  Corelli 
kind,  and  a few  sea-dogs,  such  as  Clark  Russell  and  BuUen. 
French  hterature  is  generally  represented  by  Bourget, 
Daudet,  Erckmann-Chatrian  and  Pierre  Loti,  with  Flaubert 
and  de  Maupassant  discreetly  thrown  in,  as  a concession  to 
the  literary  taste  of  the  jeunesse  doree  and  viellesse  rouee 
of  Rio  and  Buenos  Aires.  Then  there  are  a few  Spanish 
and  Portuguese  volumes  of  the  harmless  romantic  kind, 
calculated  to  give  no  cause  for  alarm  to  anxious  mothers 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


7 


of  convent-bred  flappers ; and  for  the  rest,  one  or  two  of 
the  stodgy  books  aforesaid — Koebel  or  Foster  Fraser  on 
the  Argentine — and  a miscellaneous  lot  of  decorative 
works  of  the  propagandist  ground-bait  order,  supplied 
gratuitously  by  Ministries  of  Finance  or  other  Government 
Departments  of  malice  aforethought. 

I suppose  all  this  is  so  because  Corporations,  even  when 
they  deal  with  those  who  go  down  to  the  sea  in  ships, 
really  have  no  souls,  and,  like  the  War  Office,  cannot  be 
expected  to  have  them.  If  such  a thing  as  a Shipping 
Company’s  soul  could  manifest  itself  in  Leadenhall  Street, 
it  could  hardly  fail  to  perceive  that  the  best  way  to 
encourage  travel  would  be  to  nourish  the  wayfarer’s  mind, 
while  yet  they  are  in  the  way  with  him,  upon  such  hterary 
fare  as  should  stimulate  the  romantic  adventurous  spirit 
of  wanderlust ; to  attune  it  to  the  tutelary  influences  of 
these  new  lands  and  cities,  which  only  yesterday  (as  time 
goes)  were  as  remote  from  us  as  if  they  belonged  to  another 
planet,  and  to-day  bid  fair  to  rival  those  of  the  Old  World. 
Your  German  shipping  companies  will  use  their  library, 
of  course,  as  they  use  everything  else,  to  sow  the  insidious 
seeds  of  poisonous  Kultur,  taking  every  advantage  of  the 
fact  that  he  who  reads  aboard  ship  is  not  in  a position  to 
run ; but  on  English  boats  the  catalogue  reminds  one  of  a 
jumble-sale  lot  at  a suburban  bazaar.  As  a matter  of 
fact,  it  represents  no  process  of  selection  or  mental  struggle 
on  the  part  of  any  of  the  ship’s  company;  for  I am  told 
that  the  builders  provide  them,  en  bloc,  as  an  item  in  the 
general  specification.  Two  hundred  books  (assorted)  for 
bookcase  in  social  hall,  one  parcel  music  for  piano,  ditto ; 
six  dozen  cushions,  one  dozen  miscellaneous  parlour 
games,  and  there  you  are;  who  could  ask  more  in  the 
matter  of  comfort  for  body  and  soul,  on  a journey  through 
turquoise  seas  beneath  the  Southern  Cross  ? And  yet,  as 


8 MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

I have  looked  down  the  promenade  deck  of  the  good 
ship  Araguaya  or  the  Avon,  rolling  down  to  Rio,  and 
marked  the  intellectual  fare  provided  for  the  post -prandial 
edification  of  the  deck-chair  recumbents,  how  often  have 
I longed  to  write  to  Lord  Inchcape,  or  whoever  it  is  that 
reviews  the  progress  of  the  Company  at  its  annual  meet- 
ings, and  tell  him  what  an  excellent  opportunity  they  are 
missing.  Never  was  there  a time  and  place  on  this  feverish 
planet  so  suited  to  the  inculcation  of  the  art  and  philosophy 
of  travel,  as  this  unbroken  spell  of  sunlit  days  and  star- 
spangled  nights,  this  oasis  of  silence  and  blue  sea,  beyond 
which  lies  infinity.  There  should  be  on  every  ship  that 
makes  these  voyages,  a “ Travellers’  Joy  ” library,  selected 
with  care  and  understanding,  consisting  of  books  written 
by  men  who  knew  that  there  are  things  far  more  important 
in  a journey  than  one’s  destination;  the  Odyssey  should 
be  there,  and  Montaigne,  Agassiz  and  Waterton,  and  of 
the  present  generation  books  like  Belloc’s  Path  to  Rome, 
Knight’s  Cruise  of  the  Falcon,  and  Graham’s  Vanished 
Arcadia,  with  Sterne  and  Stevenson,  Barrie  and  Locke; 
so  that  a passenger,  even  though  he  be  a financier,  might 
haply  hear  a new  spirit-stirring  message  in  the  song  of 
the  south  wind,  and  dream  dreams  more  profitable  to 
his  soul  than  are  any  that  are  bred  of  preference  stock 
or  canned  beef.  Thus  might  he  come  to  the  shores  of 
the  New  World,  as  Pizarro  and  Cortes  came  and  all  the 
splendid  dreamers  of  old  Spain,  with  a fitting  sense  of 
wonder  and  a proper  spirit  of  adventure. 

The  ultimate  objective  of  the  three  journeys  around 
and  about  which  the  present  vagabond  narrative  is 
compiled,  is  a certain  Uruguayan  estancia,  a place  of 
flocks  and  herds,  lying  far  from  the  haunts  of  men  in  the 
province  of  Soriano,  somewhere  betwixt  and  between  the 
slumbering  old  " camp  ” towns  of  Mercedes  and  Dolores. 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


9 


These  journeys  were  made  in  the  years  of  strife  1915,  1916 
and  1919 ; but  before  and  beyond  their  concern  with  the 
pastoral  affairs  of  that  remote  sequestered  spot,  they 
included  certain  digressions  into  odd  corners  of  Southern 
Brazil,  Paraguay  and  the  Chaco  Austral  of  Argentina; 
also  they  comprised  polite  visits  to  such  cities  as  lay  by 
the  way,  with  certain  subsidiary  purposes  of  propaganda 
therein,  intended  to  foil  the  insidious  plots  and  stratagems 
of  the  Hun.  This  last  business  provided  opportunities  for 
studying  the  then  neutral  attitude  of  South  America  from 
more  than  one  interesting  point  of  view,  and  of  gauging 
some  of  the  probable  results  of  the  war,  upon  men  and 
affairs  in  that  continent.  But  fear  not,  patient  reader, 
this  is  not  going  to  be  an  addition  to  the  mountainous 
growth  of  war  literature.  It  may  contain  some  brief 
exposition  (clearly  labelled,  that  they  who  read  may  run) 
of  South  American  politics  in  the  melting-pot ; but  as  to 
the  opinions  of  politicians  and  trade  prophets,  concerning 
either  the  world  at  large  or  their  own  sordid  affairs,  I 
promise  you  that  there  shall  be  as  httle  as  possible.  As 
times  go,  it  has  not  been  possible  to  write  of  anything 
under  the  sun  without  reference  to  the  four  years’  con- 
vulsion of  Europe,  because  go  where  you  will,  even  in  the 
remotest  wilds,  its  results  confront  you  at  every  step,  in  a 
hundred  ways.  Of  these  things,  of  the  reverberation  of 
the  great  struggle,  its  effects  on  the  bodies  and  souls  of 
men  at  the  other  side  of  the  world,  there  must  needs  be 
some  occasion  to  speak.  But  the  estancia  in  Uruguay  is 
our  ultimate  object,  the  piece  de  resistance,  of  this  writing — 
the  rest  may  be  regarded  as  hors  d’ oeuvre — and  the  whole 
thing  is  in  reality  only  a pretext  (publishers  insist  on  these 
things)  for  discursive  speculation  on  the  world  in  general 
and  the  moods  and  manners  of  South  America  in 
particular. 


10  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


Also  be  it  understood  at  the  outset,  I make  no  claim  to 
speak  with  special  knowledge  of  these  lands,  or  as  one 
having  authority.  These  casual  impressions  and  reflec- 
tions by  the  wayside  are  not  of  the  kind  that  are  hkely  to 
help  any  man  to  embark  on  the  business  of  cattle  raising 
or  coffee  growing ; suffice  it  if  they  help  him,  when  once 
his  cattle  are  sold  or  his  coffee  picked,  to  think  and  talk 
about  something  that,  in  his  haste  or  his  absorption,  he 
may  have  overlooked;  something  other  than  the  virtues 
and  vices  of  horses  and  the  price  of  commodities.  I am 
well  aware  that  there  is  a certain  type  of  estanciero,  the 
good  old  crusty,  forty-year-in-the-country  resident,  who 
regards  it  as  unqualified  impertinence  that  any  tenderfoot 
gringo  should  venture  to  discuss,  or  even  to  pretend  to 
understand,  the  life  and  affairs  of  the  “ camp.”  To  him  I 
would  observe,  with  all  the  respect  due  to  ancient  in- 
stitutions, that  it  may  sometimes  be  vouchsafed  to  any 
person  of  average  intelligence,  who  has  travelled  and 
studied  hfe,  to  perceive  truths  that  are  hidden,  by  reason 
of  their  very  nearness  and  famiharity,  from  the  wisest 
of  permanent  fixtures.  To  tell  the  truth,  experience  in 
many  parts  of  the  world.  East  and  West,  has  taught  me  to 
admire  the  oldest  resident,  but  to  distrust  his  judgments 
of  the  country  of  his  adoption  and  particularly  his  opinion 
of  its  people.  Even  his  faculty  for  observation  may 
frequently  become  atrophied  by  long  disuse  and  by  the 
routine  nature  of  his  mental  exercises;  his  mind,  that 
once  was  a sensitive  plant  (even  as  yours  or  mine)  may 
have  been  over-exposed,  so  that  familiar  phenomena  make 
httle  or  no  impression  upon  it.  Amongst  themselves, 
estancieros  and  other  acclimatised  residents  recognise  and 
profess  to  deplore  the  existence  of  this  state  of  mind  in 
their  midst.  Nevertheless,  your  really  good  conservative 
specimen  infinitely  prefers  this  state  to  the  critical 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


11 


condition  of  mind  which  asks  the  why  and  wherefore  of 
things,  and  which  may  occasionally  be  led  to  the  conclusion 
that  all  is  not  for  the  best  in  the  best  of  all  possible  worlds. 
Of  which  things,  more  in  due  season. 

The  impressions  of  a new-comer  have  at  least  the  virtue 
of  being  clear-cut  and  vivid,  and  if  he  happen  to  possess 
sufficient  experience  of  human  affairs  and  institutions  in 
other  parts  of  the  world  to  enable  him  to  draw  vaUd 
comparisons  and  conclusions,  it  may  be  (who  knows?) 
that  in  the  long  run,  his  activities  may  prove  as  useful 
as  the  garnered  wealth  of  an  inarticulate  wisdom  which 
has  forgotten  the  existence  of  most  things  beyond  its 
immediate  horizon.  The  thing  is  conceivable.  In  any 
case,  disregarding  the  warnings  of  old  crusty,  let  us  go 
blindly  forward.  Half  the  world,  they  say,  does  not 
know  how  the  other  half  lives,  nor  does  it  care.  It 
is  the  business  of  the  peripatetic  observer,  howsoever 
foohsh,  to  remind  Peru  of  China’s  existence,  and  vice 
versa. 

At  least  I may  claim  to  have  dealt  faithfully  with  men 
and  things,  by  the  light  of  such  faculties  as  Heaven  has 
vouchsafed  me;  wherever  possible,  I have  gathered  the 
crumbs  that  fall  from  the  table  of  local  wisdom.  The 
result  gives  no  consecutive  record  of  travel  deliberately 
planned  to  establish  either  facts  or  theories ; at  the  same 
time,  the  description  of  life  on  the  “ camp  ” in  Uruguay, 
closely  studied  on  the  spot  for  half  a year,  assumes  to  be 
something  more  than  a casual  impression.  A gringo, 
unless  to  the  manner  bom,  may  not  be  able  in  that  time 
to  pick  the  scabby  sheep  from  out  of  a moving  flock; 
he  may  not  be  able  to  recite  the  two-and-thirty  names 
under  which  that  noble  animal,  the  horse,  figures  eternally 
in  “ camp  ” conversation,  and  by  which  his  colour,  qualities 
and  vices  are  distinguished.  But  he  must  be  a poor 


12  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


traveller  and  singularly  lacking  in  curiosity  and  observa- 
tion if  he  has  not  gathered  useful  materials  for  the  com- 
parative study  of  beasts  and  man,  and  picked  up  by  the 
wayside  trifles  that  may  serve  either  to  adorn  a tale  or 
point  a dozen  morals. 


CHAPTER  II 


OUTWARD  BOUND 

There  are  several  pleasant  ways  of  getting  to  the 
eastern  coast  of  South  America.  For  those  who,  in  normal 
times  of  peace,  would  approach  it  in  a leisurely  mood, 
conducive  to  the  appreciation  of  lands  wherein  time  has 
been  relegated  to  its  proper  insignificance,  I would  suggest 
starting  through  Russia,  crossing  Asia  by  the  Trans- 
Siberian  Railway,  thence  via  Peking  and  Shanghai  to 
Japan ; from  Yokohama  either  direct  or  via  San  Francisco, 
to  Santiago  de  Chile,  and  thence  across  the  Andes  to  the 
Argentine.  Thus  travelling,  through  lands  that  have  seen 
many  an  Empire  rise  and  fall,  many  an  outworn  creed  perish 
in  oblivion,  ay,  many  a race  utterly  wiped  out  in  the  fierce 
struggle  for  a place  in  the  sun,  one  may  come  to  civilisa- 
tion’s latest  playground  and  storehouse  with  a fitting 
sense  of  the  mystery  of  existence  and  the  effect  of  time, 
climate  and  religion  on  the  destinies  of  mankind.  After 
contemplating  the  revolutionary  chaos  that  has  overthrown 
Imperial  Russia,  the  departed  glory  that  once  was  far 
Cathay,  the  swift  spreading  of  the  Empire  of  the  Rising 
Sun,  now  aspiring  to  overlordship  in  the  East  and  the 
equally  stupendous  growth  of  “ God’s  own  country,” 
the  traveller  must  needs  come  to  these  lotus  lands  of  the 
South  with  something  approaching  to  a philosophical 
conception  of  the  riddle  of  the  universe  and  a tolerant 
attitude  towards  the  state  of  mind  of  the  Spanish- American, 
who  declares  that  sufficient  unto  the  day  is  the  good  and 
the  evil  thereof.  To  come  into  this  atmosphere  of  manana, 

13 


14  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

of  mas  6 menos,  straight  from  the  feverish  hustle  and  bustle 
of  New  York  or  London,  is  to  impose  too  severe  a strain 
upon  the  average  man’s  capacity  for  rapid  adaptabihty ; 
one  should  approach  it  with  such  mental  preparation  as 
may  lead  to  sympathetic  consideration  for  the  peon’s 
outlook  on  life.  As  a philosophy,  it  is  probably  just  as 
good  as  that  of  Wall  Street,  even  when  it  asserts  that 
nothing  really  matters  except  love  and  war  and  reasonable 
intervals  for  laughter  and  sleep.  And  then,  gazing  across 
the  Gulf  of  Time,  behind  this  present-day  background 
of  easy-going  prosperity,  behind  this  vision  of  a promised 
land,  flowing  with  milk  and  honey,  the  traveller  who  has 
heard  and  understood  the  teaching  of  old  Europe  and  Asia 
may  see  these  lands,  these  great  silent  places,  as  they 
were  before  Babylon  was,  cradles  and  graves  of  nations, 
that,  like  those  of  Persia  and  Babylon,  Egypt  and  Parthia, 
have  gone  the  way  to  dusty  death  and  left  scarcely  a sign 
of  their  passing.  He  may  hear  the  distant  footsteps  of 
the  hungry  generations  that  have  trodden  one  another 
down  and  vanished  utterly.  Approached  in  this  spirit, 
Peru,  Bolivia,  even  Brazil  and  the  Argentine,  become 
moving  figures  in  the  great  shadow-play  of  human  history, 
more  instructive  than  if  we  attempt  to  interpret  them  by 
the  fierce  fight  of  their  newspapers  or  the  wind-borne 
words  of  their  pohticians.  We  shall  get  nearer  to  the 
heart  of  things  by  accepting  the  wisdom  of  the  peon  and 
its  conclusion,  namely,  that  because  of  the  brevity  of  his 
tenure,  and  the  uncertainty  of  his  end,  man  is  not  justified 
in  taking  himself  too  seriously,  either  as  an  individual  or 
a race;  that  to  have  lived,  to  have  known  laughter  and 
love,  to  have  done  the  day’s  work  without  haunting  fears 
for  the  morrow,  is  enough.  Which  wisdom  is  rarely  vouch- 
safed to  editors,  pohticians  and  other  word-ridden,  restless 
shadows. 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


15 


But  pending  the  passing  of  the  Bolshevik,  and  thereafter 
for  those  who  have  not  leisure  or  inchnation  for  this  round- 
the-world  approach,  there  is  another  way  of  getting  to 
South  America  which  combines  economy  of  time  and 
money  with  a pleasant  and  profitable  process  of  initiation, 
namely,  the  overland  route  from  Paris  to  Lisbon.  It  is 
indeed  difficult  to  understand  the  minds  and  manners  of 
men  in  Brazil,  unless  one  has  learned  something  of  Portu- 
gal ; the  big  unruly  child  resembles  its  parent  more  closely 
than  any  of  the  Spanish  Republics  resemble  Spain.  Under 
proper  guidance,  a week  in  Lisbon  and  Oporto  will  serve 
to  give  even  a complete  stranger  some  insight  into  things 
which,  seen  from  England  through  the  medium  of  Reuter's 
politico-journalese,  are  always  a puzzle,  and  frequently 
an  irritant,  to  the  uninitiated.  Lisbon,  home  of  a noisy 
and  unstable  proletariat,  is  not  Portugal  by  any  means; 
to  understand  how  and  why  the  nation  has  been  able  to 
survive  as  an  independent  State  and  to  preserve  something 
of  its  ancient  dignity,  one  must  go  north  to  the  valley  of  the 
Douro  and  beyond  and  see  the  thrifty  laborious  peasantry 
and  gallegos  at  work.  All  through  the  country,  the  hand 
of  the  politician  lies  heavily  upon  productive  industry  of 
every  kind;  ignorance  and  poverty  testify  to  the  chronic 
misrule  of  a bureaucracy  given  over  to  word-warfare  and 
la  politiqiie  de  V estomac  ; yet  four  centuries  of  this  misrule 
have  not  succeeded  in  breaking  the  stout  heart  of  these 
rugged  toilers  or  in  quenching  their  native  spark  of  cheerful 
fortitude.  Portuguese  officialdom  has  lived  since  the 
seventeenth  century  upon  the  labour  of  these  peasants, 
both  in  the  homeland  and  in  Brazil ; the  provincial  caciques, 
Lisbon  lobbyists,  and  other  bureaucratic  parasites  are  all 
alike  faithful  to  the  aristocratic  tradition  that  bids  them 
neither  toil  nor  spin.  Lisbon  lives  in  imagination  upon 
the  glories  of  her  golden  age  of  epic  deeds,  upon  the  con- 


16  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

quests  and  discoveries  of  Vasco  da  Gama  and  Albuquerque, 
but  since  the  French  Revolution,  her  actual  life  has  become 
a sordid  struggle  between  the  haves  and  the  have-nots, 
and  her  destinies  have  been  at  the  mercy  of  pohtical 
agitators  and  adventurers,  of  anarchists  and  terrorists, 
of  dreamers  who  preach  the  gospel  of  Bolshevism  in  the 
sacred  name  of  liberty.  The  Republic  which,  according 
to  its  founders,  was  to  restore  the  glorious  traditions  of 
Portugal  and  to  inaugurate  a new  era  of  prosperity,  has 
proved  that  the  pet  theories  of  political  dreamers,  apphed 
to  an  undisciphned  and  highly  emotional  people,  caimot 
give  them  the  rare  and  refreshing  fruit  of  their  hearts’ 
desire.  The  germs  of  revolution  are  ever  in  the  air ; con- 
spiracies of  Royalists,  Freemasons,  Carbonarios,  of  the 
army  and  navy,  are  endemic — and  amidst  all  their  tumult 
and  shouting,  the  " toil-worn  craftsman,  with  earth-made 
implements,  laboriously  conquers  the  earth,”  sending 
forth  his  sturdy  progeny  to  the  new  world  overseas,  from 
which  they  also  will  remit  part  of  the  price  of  their  labour 
for  the  maintenance  of  tax-gatherers  and  word-spinners 
in  the  old  country. 

The  history  of  Portugal,  and  the  present  condition  of 
the  country,  afford  many  and  fruitful  object-lessons  for 
the  guidance  of  Jacobins.  The  most  obvious  of  them  all 
is  that  nations,  like  individuals,  can  stand  adversity  better 
than  prosperity,  and  that  wealth,  when  easily  acquired 
by  plunder,  brings  its  own  swift  Nemesis.  In  the  sixteenth 
and  seventeenth  centuries,  the  gold  and  treasures  that 
were  poured  into  Portugal  from  Brazil  made  her  the  envy 
of  Christendom.  At  the  time  of  the  Napoleonic  invasion, 
the  nation  had  been  living  on  this  unearned  increment  so 
long,  that  the  idea  of  honest  work  had  become  thoroughly 
distasteful  to  any  man  with  social  pretensions;  and  the 
body  politic  had  therefore  become  completely  demoralised. 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


17 


To-day  the  man  in  the  street  has  come  to  expect  his  daily 
bread  and  bull-fight  as  the  price  of  his  vote,  and  to  conspire 
against  any  Government  which  cannot  pay  that  price. 
Moreover,  another  result  of  the  law  of  retribution  confronts 
us,  writ  plain  in  the  features  and  morals  of  the  people, 
namely,  the  infusion  of  negro  and  Brazil-Indian  blood 
which  came,  through  bond-servants  and  slaves,  with  the 
plundered  wealth  of  the  New  World.  It  is  to  the  negro 
strain,  with  its  indiscipline,  its  fatalism  and  incapacity 
for  initiative,  that  Portugal  (and,  in  like  manner,  Brazil) 
owes  many  of  her  social  and  economic  afflictions.  Even 
under  the  old  Burgundian  dynasty,  the  Moorish  and 
Jewish  ingredients  of  the  nation  had  never  fused  with  the 
semi-oriental  stock  of  Lusitania  sufficiently  to  give  the 
nation  solid  stability.  The  importation  of  the  negro 
strain  saddled  it  with  a weight  that  cannot  be  shifted  for 
centuries.  At  the  present  day,  half  of  the  soil  of  Portugal 
is  uncultivated,  three-quarters  of  her  people  illiterate,  and 
her  cities  are  become  stamping-grounds  for  the  wild  asses 
of  visionary  politics.  Yet  for  all  that  it  is  a good  land  and 
fruitful,  the  muscles  and  sinews  of  the  people  are  healthy. 
All  it  wants  (like  Russia,  China  and  other  victims  of  mis- 
rule) is  a period  of  progressive  education  under  strict 
discipline.  There  are  Portuguese  in  the  north,  worthy 
men  who  lament  the  expulsion  of  the  religious  orders 
and  the  befooling  of  Demos,  who  will  tell  you  that  the 
people  was  never  so  happily  prosperous  as  during  the 
ten  years  when  Wellington’s  army  upheld  law  and  order 
in  the  land. 

It  may  seem  to  the  reader  that  here,  at  the  very  outset 
of  our  wanderings,  he  is  getting  an  intolerable  amount  of 
political  dough  and  very  little  sack.  But  we  are  going 
to  Brazil,  and  I repeat,  in  extenuation,  that  unless  one  has 

studied  mankind  in  the  making  in  Portugal,  it  is  not 
c 


18  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


possible  to  form  a correct  judgment  of  men  and  events  in 
that  greater  Portugal  overseas.  There,  as  you  shall  see,  the 
qualities  and  defects  of  the  transplanted  race  have  persisted, 
bearing  much  fruit,  some  good,  some  bad,  in  the  prolific 
soil  of  their  new  habitat. 

There  were  other  reasons,  besides  a desire  for  enlighten- 
ment, to  commend  the  overland  trip  to  Lisbon,  in  war- 
time. In  the  first  place  you  avoided  all  the  nervous 
strain  of  anticipating  a torpedo  attack  anywhere  and 
ever5Twhere  from  Liverpool  to  Leixoes,  not  to  mention 
the  strain  of  the  Bay  of  Biscay  on  the  centre  of  all  human 
emotions.  Then,  too,  you  saw  Paris,  and  to  see  Paris 
after  three  years  of  war  was  a hberal  education  in  philo- 
sophy and  courage  of  the  highest,  because  the  most  intelli- 
gent, order.  It  was  my  good  fortime  to  visit  the  French 
capital  several  times  during  the  war — the  first  time  was 
just  after  the  Government  had  migrated  to  Bordeaux — 
and  each  time  I left  it  with  what  Americans  call  a sense  of 
“ uplift,”  with  renewed  confidence  in  human  nature  and 
a moral  certainty  that  France  and  civihsation  were  going 
to  consign  the  German’s  shining  armour  to  its  proper 
place  in  the  world’s  Chamber  of  Horrors.  ” France  is 
dying,”  said  Hindenburg  in  1917.  I heard  that  message 
in  Paris,  and  took  it  with  me  to  the  Place  de  la  Concorde, 
where  the  statue  of  Strasbourg,  still  decked  with  the 
wreaths  of  a great  nation’s  mourning,  was  awaiting  the 
day  of  redemption,  all  confident,  surrounded  by  her  peers. 
“ France  is  dying,”  said  the  idol  of  the  Huns.  The  lie 
was  good  enough  to  keep  the  Berhner  in  good  humour, 
but  the  German  had  not  our  advantage  of  seeing  Paris, 
sore  stricken  but  serene  and  splendid,  in  the  sunlight  of 
that  autumn  day. 

Then  by  the  overland  route  you  get  little  glimpses  of 
Spain — not  very  satisfactory  to  new-comers,  but  to  those 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


19 


who  know  and  love  this  land  of  idleness  made  perfect  by 
a race  of  artists,  like  the  wayside  greetings  of  old  friends. 
There  are  two  main  roads  for  reaching  Lisbon  from  the 
French  frontier,  one  by  Irun — Medina  del  Campo — ^Villa 
Formosa,  the  other  via  Hendaye  to  Madrid  (Wagons-lits 
service)  and  thence  to  Lisbon  by  the  so-called  " Rapide,” 
direct.  In  summer  both  routes  are  extremely  dusty  and 
stuffy.  But  from  your  carriage  window  you  can  see,  with 
the  eye  of  faith,  the  Knight  of  the  Rueful  Countenance 
and  his  trusty  squire  faring  forth  in  their  immortal  quest 
of  chivalry.  You  can  see  agriculture  as  it  was  by  the 
sources  of  Time,  bullock-carts  of  the  type  men  used  in 
Egypt  ages  ago  and  use  in  Manchuria  to-day;  women 
gleaning  in  the  fields  as  Esther  gleaned,  and  everywhere 
glad  sunlight,  and  snatches  of  half-forgotten  songs. 

At  Lisbon,  before  embarking  on  the  Royal  Mail,  and 
even  more  emphatically  on  returning  to  Portugal,  one 
learned  in  war-time  something  of  the  possibilities  of  local 
bureaucratic  formalities,  when  combined  with  those  of 
diplomatic  routine,  as  effective  checks  on  an5dhing  like 
unseemly  haste;  the  education  thus  acquired  is  valuable 
anywhere  between  the  Isthmus  of  Panama  and  the  Straits 
of  Magellan.  To  get  one’s  passport  stamped  by  the 
Gobernador  Civil  and  the  French  Legation,  for  example, 
was  a splendid  test  of  philosophic  calm ; there  were  others, 
provided  by  the  Government’s  official  launch  service, 
which  monopolised  the  carrying  of  passengers  to  and  from 
vessels  lying  in  the  Tagus,  by  the  Health  Officer  who 
boarded  you  next  morning  because  his  wife  was  ill  last 
night,  and  by  the  Servicio  da  Republica,  Policia  Adminis- 
trativa,  which  undertook  to  carry  one’s  luggage  expediti- 
ously from  the  wharf  to  the  Avenida  Palace  Hotel — about 
800  yards — and  took  half  a day  to  do  it.  It  needed  but 
little  experience  of  these  official  monopolies  to  confirm 


20  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

one’s  faith  in  Cobden  and  the  virtue  of  private  competition. 
To  remonstrate  with  anything  in  Portugal  that  wears 
gold  lace  and  brass  buttons  is  futile : you  might  as  well 
argue  with  a penny-in-the-slot  machine.  Then,  too, 
there  were  chronic  dislocations  of  labour,  due  to  the 
frequency  of  national  festivals,  to  the  inscrutable  workings 
of  the  repos  hehdoniadaire  and  to  strikes,  whereby 
your  ship  was  prevented  from  coaling  or  discharging 
cargo — many  inventions,  in  fact,  for  persuading  the 
traveller  that  to-morrow  will  do  just  as  well  as  to-day,  and 
that  it  is  not  seemly  to  look  upon  Lisbon  as  no  better  than 
a jumping-off  place.  Take  your  time,  Senhores : what 
matters  a day  more  or  less  in  a lifetime,  especially  when 
all  the  world  is  upside  down  ? Saunter  down  the  Via  Aurea, 
on  the  shady  side,  and  learn  how  man  may  be  completely 
idle  and  yet  well  satisfied.  Sip  your  vermouth  at  the 
cafes  of  the  Rocio  and  read  the  latest  exposition  of  Affonso 
Costa’s  plan  for  establishing  the  millennium  on  the  principle 
of  the  widow’s  cruse.  Or  take  leisurely  trips  to  Cintra  and 
Bussaco  and  the  sleepy  old  towns  of  the  northern  coast 
and  learn  how  contentedly  men  may  dream  their  httle 
lives  away,  a stone’s  throw  from  the  hurly-burly  of  your 
machine-made  modernity,  yet  worlds  apart. 

This  may  not  have  been  the  idea  at  the  back  of  the  mind 
of  Lisbon’s  officialdom — perhaps  it  does  not  entertain 
ideas — but  it  was  the  impression  that  one  got  from  it. 
Take  the  case  of  the  Gobernador  Civil  and  the  stamping  of 
passports.  Let  us  say  that  you  landed  at  Lisbon  from 
South  America  in  the  evening,  and  wanted  to  take  the 
express  via  Madrid,  leaving  next  day  at  4.55  p.m.  The 
Civil  Governor’s  office  bore  a legend  to  the  effect  that  it 
was  open  from  10  to  4.  So  it  was,  but  the  janitor  (weary, 
because  he  had  explained  it  for  years  and  years)  informed 
you  that  His  Excellency  never  arrived  till  11.30  and  usually 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


21 


at  twelve.  You  employed  part  of  the  interval  in  a voyage 
of  discovery  to  find  the  place,  some  streets  away,  where 
they  sold  you  the  stamps  which  the  Civil  Governor’s  office 
would  presently  affix;  only  the  uninitiated  would  expect 
to  find  them  in  that  office,  said  the  tired  clerk,  who  relieved 
the  tedium  of  your  subsequent  waiting  with  a careful 
enumeration  of  the  various  formalities  to  be  observed. 
The  vise  at  the  French  Legation  was  a serious  matter, 
unless  you  were  an  old  hand  at  the  game  and  carried  a 
stock  of  photographs  suitable  for  pasting  on  to  passports, 
for  they  required  you  to  deposit  two  copies  in  the  archives. 
(Why  is  it,  by  the  way,  that  passport  photographs,  all  the 
world  over,  make  you  look  like  a criminal  in  posse  ?)  It 
usually  took  two  days  to  get  your  papers  passed  by  the 
French  Legation  and  they  charged  you  two  and  a half 
milreis  (roughly  seven  shillings)  for  the  privilege,  which, 
judging  by  the  number  of  applicants,  must  have  gone 
some  way  towards  paying  the  expenses  of  the  establish- 
ment. No  doubt  the  object  of  all  this  was  to  make  war- 
time travelling  difficult  and  unpleasant ; but  to  the 
unofficial  mind  it  would  have  seemed  simpler  and  better 
for  all  concerned  to  check  it,  by  refusing  to  issue  passports 
in  the  first  instance,  except  for  approved  purposes.  The 
purposes  once  approved,  why  harass  the  traveller  with 
clinging  coils  of  red  tape  <and  regulations  that  merely 
reflected  the  vacillations  and  vagaries  of  the  official  mind  ? 

In  June  1915,  when  I passed  through  Lisbon  to  join 
the  good  ship  Avon,  the  city  was  recovering  from  its  latest 
Revolution,  busy  also  with  demonstrations — these  people 
are  born  demonstrators — in  favour  of  the  Allies,  with 
processions,  much  firing  of  loud  bombs,  and  a great  flow 
of  oratory.  The  Revolution  had  been  more  serious,  in  the 
matter  of  bloodshed,  than  that  which  relegated  King 
Manoel  to  the  seclusion  of  Twickenham;  not  because  the 


22  MEN,  INIANNERS  AND  MORALS 

political  ends  in  view  were  more  fiercely  contested,  but 
because  arms  were  freely  distributed  at  the  naval  barracks 
to  all  good  patriots,  and  many  apphcants  of  the  baser 
sort  secured  them  for  purposes  quite  unconnected  with 
politics,  to  wit,  for  the  sniping  of  over-zealous  policemen 
or  the  settling  of  private  feuds.  There  was  an  aftermath 
of  nervous  unrest  in  the  air;  prudent  politicians  were 
seeking  to  divert  attention  from  home  affairs  by  stimu- 
lating public  resentment  against  Germany  and  by  prepar- 
ations for  Portugal’s  entry  into  the  war.  Amidst  all  this 
excitement,  the  German  merchant  ships  lay  calmly  at 
their  moorings,  some  thirty-five  of  them ; a goodly  fleet  in 
idleness,  a menace  or  an  invitation,  according  to  the  point 
of  view.  On  Simdays,  the  German  colony  were  wont  to 
use  them  in  turn  as  picnic  resorts,  eating  up  their  stores 
and  drinking  their  wines  to  the  glory  of  the  Fatherland — 
a continual  offence,  this,  to  those  who  foresaw  the  day 
when  Portugal  w'ould  seize  these  ships  and  find  their 
cupboards  bare. 

When  next  I passed  through  Lisbon,  in  March  1916, 
Germany  had  declared  war  against  Portugal  for  violations 
of  neutrality,  and  the  Republic  was  taking  itself  very 
seriously  as  a belligerent.  The  German  ships,  all  effec- 
tively damaged  by  their  crews,  had  been  taken  over  by  the 
Portuguese  Government;  no  longer  were  Hans  and  Fritz 
to  be  seen,  of  a fine  morning,  hanging  out  their  wash  on 
the  rigging.  Down  by  the  river’s  bank,  where  King 
Joseph's  Black  Horse  stands  majestically  surrounded  by 
Government  offices,  there  was  much  running  to  and  fro 
of  important  persons  with  portfolios,  and  groups  of  citizens 
were  gathered  in  the  colonnades,  endlessly  discussing  the 
fortunes  of  war  \vith  much  gesticulation.  But  beyond  the 
square,  which  is  the  gathering  place  of  professional  and 
amateur  statesmen,  the  tide  of  life  flowed  in  its  usual 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


23 


leisurely  channels.  The  morning  air  was  fragrant  with 
the  roses  and  violets  of  the  flower-sellers,  elderly  citizens 
and  nursemaids  were  placidly  taking  the  sun  on  the  benches 
of  the  palm-clad  Avenida;  women,  carr5dng  large  fiat 
baskets  filled  with  silvery  shining  fish,  were  going  their 
daily  rounds,  and  ever5rwhere,  as  usual,  the  raucous  cries 
of  the  newspaper  sellers  and  the  hawkers  of  lottery  tickets 
rose  shrill,  dominating  even  the  clamour  of  wheeled  traffic 
on  the  cobble  stones  and  the  ceaseless  clanging  of  the  tram- 
car  bells.  Somehow,  it  was  not  easy  to  persuade  oneself 
that  this  furthermost  corner  of  the  Continent  had  been 
drawn  into  the  maelstrom  of  man-killing;  that  these 
easy-going  and  (for  all  their  revolutions)  peaceful  people 
would  soon  be  contributing  their  quota  of  victims  to  the 
insatiable  holocaust  in  far-off  Flanders. 

But  the  good  ship  Araguaya  (one  of  the  splendid  Royal 
Mail  ships  then  still  unrequisitioned  for  transport  work) 
has  arrived  on  time  from  Liverpool,  and  lies  yonder  on  the 
dancing  waters  a mile  down  the  river,  flying  the  Blue 
Peter.  And  so,  for  a season,  farewell  to  Europe  and  her 
armed  camps.  For  a little  while,  the  burden  of  her  strife 
lingers  with  us  aboard  ship,  by  reason  of  the  absence  of 
lights  and  volunteer  watches  kept  by  the  passengers  on 
the  look-out  for  submarines.  Also  we  have  a business- 
like gun  in  the  stern  and  handy  men  to  work  it,  and  one 
notices  that  the  ship’s  stewards  are  no  longer  the  smart 
young  fellows  of  a year  ago,  whilst  the  band  (thank  good- 
ness !)  has  dwindled  visibly.  But  after  Madeira,  as  we 
pass  out  into  the  limitless  horizons  of  the  unchanging  seas, 
we  forget  much  of  the  significance  of  these  things;  the 
world  towards  which  we  are  heading  is  the  world  we  have 
always  known,  pleasantly  proceeding  with  its  peaceful 
affairs  in  comfortable  security.  As  one  looks  out  from  the 
bows,  gently  rising  to  an  invisible  swell,  where  the  flying 


24  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

fishes  break  from  the  blue  in  flurried  shoals,  all  the  hellish 
havoc  of  war  behind  us  seems  a monstrous,  incredible 
nightmare.  Next  morning  the  ship’s  gazette  brings  us 
faint  echoes  of  Armageddon,  voiceless  messages  myste- 
riously gathered  out  of  the  darkness  by  the  Marconi 
magician ; we  hear  of  children  slain  in  their  beds  in  London 
or  Paris  by  German  airmen,  new  horrors  perpetrated  on 
the  defenceless  civilians  of  ravaged  Belgium ; but  the  vision 
of  these  things  becomes  remote,  unbehevable,  almost 
fantastic,  amidst  the  unbroken  peace  of  these  halcyon 
days,  when  the  south  wind  comes  soft  as  a caress  and  the 
velvety  rhythm  of  the  ship’s  way  sings  its  gentle  lullaby 
unceasing.  Never  before  have  the  great  silences  of  tliese 
pathless  waters,  the  serene  glimpses  of  the  moon,  brought 
such  a sense  of  calm,  security  and  restfiflness.  Yet  all 
the  time  behind  this  sense,  there  lurks  an  uneasy  feeling 
of  compunction,  almost  of  shame,  that  life  should  be  so 
comfortable  and  free  from  care  whilst,  over  yonder,  our 
bravest  and  best  “ go  to  their  graves  like  beds.” 

There  were  not  many  passengers  in  war-time;  none  of 
the  usual  crowd  of  rich  Brazilians  and  Argentines  returning 
with  new  wardrobes,  and  purple  memories  of  la  vie  galante 
in  Paris  and  London;  after  the  war  began,  the  native- 
born  estanciero  was  shut  off  from  his  happy  hunting- 
grounds.  A few  travellers  on  business,  mostly  British, 
a few  women  going  out  to  join  their  husbands  in  Buenos 
Aires,  an  Irishman  and  his  family  returning  to  their  sugar 
factory  in  the  wilderness  of  the  Gran  Chaco,  an  Enghsh 
girl  on  her  way  to  marry  a man  in  Pernambuco,  in  response 
to  an  advertisement  in  a matrimonial  paper ; half  a dozen 
more  or  less  mysterious  gentlemen  travelling  on  Govern- 
ment business  for  the  Allies;  a number  of  artists  of  the 
operatic  and  light  comedy  stage,  without  whom  no  ship’s 
company  for  South  America  is  ever  complete,  and  a few 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


25 


other  ladies  of  the  kind  one  subsequently  sees  in  purple 
and  fine  raiment  at  the  gambling  tables  of  Guaruja  or 
Pocitos ; but  nothing  like  the  gay  flock  of  birds  of  paradise 
that  migrate  to  the  lands  of  the  prohfic  peso  in  piping  times 
of  peace.  Some  forty  or  fifty  passengers  perhaps  all  told 
in  the  first  class,  not  enough  to  fill  more  than  half  the  seats 
in  the  dining  saloon;  but  still  quite  enough  to  provide 
material  for  the  usual  board-ship  romances  and  comedies 
and  gossip  for  the  smoke-room. 

Two  days  after  leaving  Lisbon,  Madeira.  As  we  made 
the  harbour,  a British  cruiser  passed  out,  to  patrol  the 
traffic  highway  of  the  St.  Vincent  route.  A goodly  and  a 
grateful  sight  was  the  white  ensign  on  these  seas,  from 
which  the  German  flag  had  been  swept  utterly.  But  the 
German  spy,  of  various  breeds  and  brands,  still  lurked 
around  and  about  us,  his  activities  directed  to  the  sinking 
of  ships  by  means  of  clockwork  bombs  and  other  typical 
Hun  methods  of  war,  and  to  the  collection  of  information 
concerning  the  movements  of  allied  shipping  homeward 
bound.  These  activities  were  responsible  for  precautions 
aboard  ship  at  every  harbour  on  our  route ; all  gangways 
were  closely  guarded,  landing  permits  de  rigueur,  and  the 
motley  collection  of  touts,  fruit-sellers  and  miscellaneous 
traders,  that  used  to  invade  the  ship,  compelled  to  do  their 
business  from  bumboats  with  the  aid  of  baskets  and  boat- 
hooks. The  ship’s  barber-shop  trade,  heretofore  no  small 
item  in  the  Company’s  business,  suffered  severely  from 
these  restrictions;  no  longer  might  the  elite  at  ports  of 
call — ^notably  in  Brazil — come  aboard  by  dozens  to 
replenish  their  wardrobes  and  defraud  their  country’s 
revenues,  by  wholesale  purchases  of  duty-free  soap  and 
scent,  lingerie  and  other  luxuries.  A very  interesting 
and  instructive  business  it  used  to  be,  this  free-trading 
aboard  of  ships  from  Europe  by  thrifty  citizens  of  high- 


26  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

tariff  countries.  At  certain  protectionist  ports  {e.  g. 
Santos)  the  Customs  authorities,  backed  by  local  dealers, 
found  its  effect  on  their  revenues  so  serious  that  they 
required  the  barber’s  shop  to  be  closed  during  the  vessel’s 
stay  in  harbour;  but  enterprising  members  of  the  crew 
usually  had  their  private  ventures  and  regular  chents  at 
such  places,  and  the  game  was  well  worth  the  candle,  even 
when  Customs’  tide-waiters  and  w^atchers  had  to  be 
liberally  rewarded  for  assmning  an  absent-minded  interest 
in  things  beyond  the  horizon.  I have  known  worthy 
citizens  of  Pernambuco  and  Bahia  to  make  down-coast 
trips  for  the  sole  purpose  of  doing  a day’s  quiet  business 
with  the  barber’s  shop,  and  to  profess  themselves  well 
satisfied  with  the  results  of  their  enterprise. 

On  my  way  home  from  Buenos  Aires,  aboard  the 
Araguaya  in  1915,  I noticed  that  the  assistant  barber, 
borne  on  the  ship’s  papers  as  a Swede,  spoke  Enghsh  with 
an  accent  more  suggestive  of  Berlin  than  of  Stockholm. 
He  was  a sleek  and  shiny  creature,  talkative  and  ingrati- 
ating after  the  manner  of  barbers,  much  given  to  discussing 
the  war,  and  effusively  hostile  to  Germany;  a sociable 
fellow  withal,  and  a man  of  many  friends  and  much 
business  ashore,  even  at  uninteresting  places  such  as  St. 
Vincent.  In  harbour  I observed  that  he  was  always 
hanging  about  the  deck,  and  the  oily  furtiveness  of 
the  feUow  was  suggestive  of  unpleasant  possibilities. 
Giving  him  the  benefit  of  all  possible  doubts,  it  seemed 
absurd  to  harbour  a dubious  alien  of  this  kind  in  our 
midst ; better,  surely,  if  no  British  barbers  were  available, 
that  half  the  ship’s  company  should  grow  beards.  But 
I was  assured,  wath  all  the  happy  insouciance  which 
characterises  British  methods  in  such  cases,  that  the 
fellow  was  really  all  right,  w'ell  known  in  Liverpool,  got 
an  English  wife  and  all  that.  His  case  had  been  very 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


27 


carefully  investigated  and  there  wasn’t  a chance  of  his 
being  a German  spy.  So  be  it.  But  on  going  for  my 
shave  the  first  day  out  after  leaving  Lisbon  in  the  same 
ship  six  months  later,  I missed,  the  fellow’s  ferret  face  and 
oily  tongue,  and  on  inquiry  ascertained  that  the  unim- 
peachable Swede  had  turned  out  to  be  a German,  and  a 
highly  paid  spy  in  the  regular  service  of  the  German 
Government  to  boot.  He  had  done  two  years’  good  work 
for  the  Fatherland  aboard  this  hospitable  British  ship, 
but  eventually  the  nature  of  his  mole  work  was  discovered 
and  he  got  nine  months’  hard  labour,  because,  grown  over- 
bold with  impunity,  he  had  omitted  to  allow  for  a possible 
increase  of  vigilance  on  the  part  of  our  naval  Intelligence 
Staff  and  Censorship.  There  may  be  something  magnifi- 
cent in  our  insular  indifference  to  the  activities  of  doubtful 
aliens,  but  it  certainly  is  not  conducive  to  success  in  war. 
How  many  British  ships,  one  wonders,  how  many  British 
sailors,  paid  the  penalty  of  our  easy-going  confidence  in 
that  slim  soi-disant  Swede  ? 

At  Madeira  there  were  four  German  ships,  all  of  which 
had  been  effectively  destroyed  as  to  their  engines  by  their 
crews  so  soon  as  they  got  wind  of  their  impending  seizure 
by  the  Portuguese.  The  neatness  and  despatch  with 
which  the  Germans  disabled  their  merchant  shipping  in 
the  nick  of  time  whenever  neutral  countries  decided  to 
join  the  Allies  (except  in  China,  where  we  managed  to  get 
ahead  of  them)  testify  to  the  thoroughness  with  which 
their  secret  agents  worked  in  places  ostensibly  cut  off 
from  all  communication  with  the  Fatherland. 

As  one  looks  down  the  terrace  on  the  hill  over  Funchal 
and  the  harbour,  one  of  earth’s  fairest  scenes,  one  can 
scarcely  help  regretting  that  we  did  not  accept  the  guard- 
ianship of  this  beautiful  island  when  Portugal  was  ready 
and  willing — not  so  long  ago — that  it  should  become  a 


28  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


British  possession.  One  needs  but  little  imagination  to 
realise  what  might  be  made  of  it,  what  an  ideal  place  of 
refuge  for  sunshine  seekers,  honeymooners  and  other 
dreamers.  As  it  is,  the  semi-tropical  slumbrous  charm  of 
Madeira,  the  beauty  of  its  luxuriant  hills  and  wooded 
heights,  the  old-world  semi-oriental  quality  of  its  inhabit- 
ants, linger  in  the  memory  with  a distinct  and  peculiar 
fragrance.  It  is  one  of  those  places  through  which  the 
traveller  passes  regretfully,  to  which  he  resolves  to  return, 
“ some  day,”  a place  of  which  to  dream  wistful  dreams, 
amidst  the  grey  monotony  of  our  machine-made  civili- 
sation. 

Most  of  us  have  some  such  island  of  refuge  in  our  mind’s 
eye  (I  have  ear-marked  several  myself  in  the  inland  sea 
of  Japan,  in  the  south  seas,  and  up  the  Puget  Sound), 
restful,  lotus-eating  spots,  where  you  might  get  a mail 
once  a month,  just  to  remind  you  of  the  distant  hurly- 
burly,  where  you  would  live  in  a bungalow  looking  out  to  the 
sea,  catch  your  fish  for  dinner  and  gather  the  kindly  fruits 
of  the  earth.  Of  course,  the  thing  wouldn’t  work;  your 
house  of  dreams  would  leak,  and  there  are  no  plumbers  in 
Paradise.  We  are  too  late  for  allotments  in  Arcadia,  we 
who  have  eaten  of  the  fruit  of  the  Tree  of  Knowledge. 
All  the  same,  if,  after  the  war,  the  income-tax  in  England 
goes  to  ten  shillings  in  the  pound,  as  some  predict,  or  if 
Ramsay  Macdonald,  Smillie  and  their  friends  are  able  to 
put  their  Bolshevik  principles  into  practice,  it  seems  to 
me  that  places  like  Madeira  are  likely  to  attract  a consider- 
able number  of  permanent  exiles  from  the  British  Isles. 
If  the  accepted  definition  of  liberty,  equality  and  fraternity 
comes  to  be,  as  our  Snowdens  and  Outhwaites  would  have 
it — liberty,  the  licence  of  undisciplined  mob  rule ; equahty, 
conferring  one  and  the  same  dignity  of  citizenship  on  a 
senior  wrangler  and  a fuddled  bar  loafer;  fraternity,  a 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA  29 

brotherhood  for  purposes  of  plunder,  inspired  by  class 
hatred — then,  merry  England,  a long  farewell ! 

The  Funchal  funicular  railway  carries  you  up,  through 
vineyards  and  gardens  and  sugar-cane  plantations,  to  the 
top  of  the  hill ; in  the  town  itself  you  can  have  your  choice 
of  locomotion  between  an  automobile  and  a bullock- 
sleigh,  the  latter  a nice  leisurely  conveyance  that  meanders 
bumpily  through  the  narrow  streets  and  stops  of  its  own 
accord  at  the  shops  where  tourists  are  expected  to  buy 
lace  and  wickerwork.  Coming  down  from  the  hill  you 
hire  the  same  sort  of  conveyance  (minus  the  bullocks) 
which  is  used  as  a toboggan,  the  path  being  constructed  so 
as  to  make  a glissade ; two  elderly  natives  guide  and  check 
its  descent,  calling  on  you  and  the  Madonna  to  bear  witness 
to  their  perspiring  energy,  their  poverty  and  the  duty  of 
generosity  incumbent  upon  wealthy  travellers.  The 
machine  stops  at  certain  points,  ostensibly  for  the  men  to 
take  breath,  but  more  obviously  to  afford  opportunities 
of  baksheesh  to  the  swarms  of  beggars,  touts,  and  other 
birds  of  prey  that  here  lie  in  wait.  Children  emerging 
from  ambuscades  bombard  you  with  faded  flowers, 
clamouring  for  coin ; photo  sellers  thrust  their  wares  upon 
you  at  every  corner ; this  in  a land  where  an  honest  day’s 
work  should  feed  a family  for  a week.  Beggars  are  an 
inevitable  product  of  Portuguese  administration  and 
economics,  just  as  they  are  in  Ireland.  The  subsistence, 
with  comparative  success,  of  a social  class  which  habitually 
declines  either  to  toil  or  spin,  may  be  partly  due  to  the 
semi-religious  conception  of  charity,  which  leads  people 
to  believe  they  are  laying  up  treasure  in  heaven  by  bestow- 
ing largesse  on  scrofulous  loafers;  but  the  root  of  the 
matter  is  laziness,  laziness  of  the  giver,  as  much  as  of  the 
receiver,  of  largesse.  If  only  donations  were  occasionally 
made  in  the  form  of  soap  or  a ticket  of  admission  to  the 


30  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

nearest  hospital,  the  streets  of  this  enchanted  isle  would 
smell  far  sweeter. 

From  Madeira,  southwards,  along  the  bulging  coast  of 
Africa,  through  the  tropic  of  Cancer,  down  to  the  Cape 
Verde  islands,  the  sea  is  like  a shining  disc  of  molten  metal, 
shimmering  in  the  heat  wafted  on  a faint  easterly  breeze 
from  the  Sahara  desert.  Tweeds  and  stiff  collars  have 
disappeared,  replaced  by  flannels  and  soft  raiment;  little 
affaires  de  cceur,  tentative  and  unsettled  until  now,  take 
on  a serious  complexion.  After  dusk,  cosy  coigns  of 
vantage  on  the  boat  deck  testify  to  the  rapid  growth  of 
love’s  young  (or  old)  dream;  beneath  the  glimpses  of  the 
crescent  homed  moon,  romance  weaves  her  magic  web, 
in  blissful  anticipation  of  seven  lotus-eating  days,  seven 
tropic  nights  to  come  before  the  enchantment  shall  be 
broken  by  contact  with  the  world  of  painful  realities.  In 
the  smoking-room,  bridge  fours  establish  a prescriptive 
right  to  favourite  corners;  the  leading  members  of  an 
Itahan  opera  troupe,  who  rise  at  mid-day  and  conduct 
flirtations  of  bewildering  promiscuity  till  dinner-time, 
have  organised  a sort  of  family  poker  party,  in  which 
stern  business  and  glad-eyed  sentiment  are  curiously 
blended.  The  young  Frenchwoman  of  attractive  appear- 
ance who  shares  a cabin  de  luxe  with  an  elderly  Brazilian 
millionaire,  and  who  made  her  first  pallid  appearance  on 
deck  at  Madeira,  now  emerges  resplendent  in  the  latest 
confections  of  the  Rue  de  la  Paix,  to  sip  champagne  and 
munch  chocolates  in  a long  chair.  She  mixes  not  with  the 
vulgar;  her  cabin  emits  a pungent  fragrance,  suggestive 
of  wholesale  business  at  Moray’s,  and  she  and  her  cavalier 
have  a table  for  two  in  the  far  corner  of  the  dining  saloon ; 
but  other  passengers  for  Rio,  who  profess  to  know  all 
about  her  prosperous  partner,  hasten  to  enlighten  you 
with  savoury  details  of  a typical  chronique  scandaleuse, 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA  31 

and  to  narrate  the  lamentable  experiences  of  the  lady’s 
predecessors. 

Before  reaching  St.  Vincent,  that  melancholy  jumping- 
off  place  and  telegraph  station  where  a httle  cluster  of 
white  men’s  houses  crouch  in  the  heat  of  the  sweltering 
sands,  with  the  great  barrier  of  barren  rocks  behind  them, 
one  of  those  indefatigably  bustling  persons  who  always 
emerge  on  such  voyages,  had  organised  a perfect  orgy  of 
deck  and  parlour  games  and  roped  in  nearly  every  one 
on  board — every  one,  in  fact,  except  the  Brazilian  love- 
bird and  his  mate  aforesaid,  and  another  little  French 
lady,  lawful  spouse  of  a Rio  magnate,  who  had  learned  to 
assuage  the  pangs  of  exile  with  opium,  smoked  d la  Chinoise. 
The  energetic  gentleman  on  this  occasion  was  an  Itahan 
(we  will  call  him  Pozzi)  who  was  pleased  to  describe  himself 
as  a supernumerary  secretary  of  (shall  we  say?)  the 
Bohemian  Legation  at  Rio.  A dapper  little  man,  some- 
what loud  of  voice  and  familiar  of  manner,  who  picked  his 
teeth  at  meal-times  with  something  more  than  South 
American  thoroughness,  but  otherwise  a very  paragon  of 
sociable  activity,  and  a born  leader  of  functions.  By 
common  consent  of  the  smoke-room,  and  upon  his  own 
initiative.  Signor  Pozzi  was  elected  to  be  Chairman  of  the 
Sports  Committee.  In  that  capacity,  he  organised  a 
Fancy  Dress  Ball,  deck  sports  of  every  description, 
lotteries  and  concerts ; there  was  no  gainsa5nng  the  mer- 
curial cheeriness  of  the  man.  I found  him  one  morning 
playing  draughts  in  the  second-class  quarters  with  the 
Italian  barber — for  all  his  masterfulness,  his  was  evidently 
a companionable  soul — and  he  had  with  him  a strangely 
silent  mysterious  Itahan  “ niece,”  a dark  girl  of  the  peasant 
or  shopkeeper  class,  of  whom  he  seemed  to  be  somewhat 
nervous.  The  smoking-room  came  in  time  to  have  lurking 
doubts  about  the  Chairman  of  the  Sports  Committee, 


32  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


especially  after  the  Fancy  Dress  Ball,  on  which  occasion 
he  gave  a display  that  suggested  undue  familiarity  with 
the  midnight  manners  of  the  Moulin  Rouge,  and  after  a 
British  Secretary  of  Legation  had  disclosed  the  fact  that 
the  name  of  Pozzi  did  not  figure  in  the  directory  of  the 
Diplomatic  Body  at  Rio.  Nevertheless,  until  the  social 
evening  which  closed  the  list  of  his  activities  after  leaving 
Bahia,  and  until  the  approaching  end  of  his  journey  cast 
a certain  veil  of  thoughtfulness  upon  him,  Pozzi  continued 
to  be  the  life  and  soul  of  gaiety  aboard. 

But  there  is  a sequel  to  this  tale  of  a glad  knight-errant, 
and  it  may  as  well  be  told  here.  A week  after  landing  at 
Rio,  I was  invited  by  the  representative  of  Bohemia,  an 
old  friend  of  mine,  to  spend  a day  or  two  with  him  at  his 
charming  summer  residence  at  Petropolis,  the  restful 
retreat  and  fashionable  centre  in  which  diplomacy  in  Brazil 
takes  refuge  from  the  sordid  commercialism  of  the  capital. 
I arrived  at  his  palm-shaded  villa  one  evening  towards 
sunset,  and  who  should  open  the  door  at  my  ringing 
but  Pozzi — Pozzi,  wearing  the  black  coat  and  white  tie 
of  ceremonial  occasions  and  a somewhat  shamefaced 
expression. 

” Hallo,  Pozzi,”  said  I.  ” How  are  you?  Didn’t  know 
I was  going  to  meet  you  here.  Is  His  Excellency  in  ? ” 

“ Yes,  sir,”  said  Pozzi.  ” Will  you  wear  dinner  dress  or 
a smoking-jacket  ? Dinner  is  at  7.30.” 

The  fellow  was  quite  cool  and  collected.  He  seemed  to 
assume  that  I would  respect  smoking-room  confidences  and 
betray  no  ill-bred  surprise  at  discovering  the  ex-chairman 
of  the  Sports  Committee  in  the  major-domo  of  the  Bohe- 
mian Legation.  Without  the  quiver  of  an  eyelid  he 
unpacked  my  bag  and  prepared  my  bath;  neither  of  us 
referred  again  to  the  Araguaya  or  the  mysterious  niece, 
or  to  any  of  the  social  amenities  wherein  he  had  moved 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


33 


with  such  distinction  and  success.  He  played  his  part 
with  all  the  sad  dignity  of  Monsieur  Beaucaire,  renverse. 
All  the  same,  the  strain  must  have  told  upon  his  nerves, 
for  at  dinner  my  host,  apologising  for  the  service,  explained 
that  his  major-domo  had  hurt  his  hand  and  couldn’t  wait 
at  table.  I saw  no  more  of  Signor  Pozzi  at  Petropohs, 
but  later  on,  walking  one  day  in  the  Avenida  Branco  at 
Rio,  I caught  sight  of  him  and  the  niece,  both  fashionably 
attired,  taking  the  air  in  a hired  victoria.  And  later  still, 
at  Sao  Paulo,  I met  an  English  lady  who  had  travelled  from 
Lisbon  to  Rio  with  him  three  years  before,  when,  as  she 
said,  he  had  been  the  life  and  soul  of  the  ship,  only,  on  that 
occasion,  his  niece  had  auburn  hair.  A gay  dog,  I fear, 
was  Pozzi,  and  a bit  of  a blade.  But  all  the  world’s  a 
stage,  and  who  shall  blame  him  if  his  soaring  soul,  escaping 
now  and  then  from  the  fetters  of  butlerdom,  prompted 
him  to  strut  and  ruffle  it  awhile  among  his  so-called 
betters,  to  play  the  Admirable  Crichton  and  revel  in  his 
masquerade  ? Not  I,  for  one.  He  certainly  did  more  to 
enliven  the  voyage  of  the  Araguaya  than  most  of  us,  and 
he  achieved  at  least  one  memorable  flirtation  with  an 
Argentine  lady,  reputed  as  of  eighteen-carat  dignity  in 
her  own  circle. 

Five  days  of  the  “ mild,  lightsome,  temperate  and  warm  ” 
Atlantic,  as  old  Hakluyt  has  it,  bring  us  from  St.  Vincent 
to  Pernambuco,  our  first  port  of  call  in  Brazil — five  days 
of  sunshine  and  summer  seas,  five  nights  of  starlight 
splendour.  Life  has  its  golden  hours  of  many  kinds, 
hours  that  memory  enshrines  in  the  innermost  chamber  of 
her  treasure-house;  imperishable  moments  in  which  the 
soul  has  won  brief  freedom  from  the  trammels  of  its  time- 
garment  and  heard  the  choir  invisible  at  the  very  portals 
of  the  infinite.  The  golden  hours  that  remain  with  us 
unto  the  end,  trailing  clouds  of  glory  to  the  very  banks  of 

D 


34  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

Styx,  are  generally  not  of  our  premeditation,  or  even  of 
our  selection ; not  we  for  ourselves,  but  Memory,  on  some 
mysterious  system  of  her  own,  selects  for  us  these  deathless 
flowers  from  the  garden  of  our  swift-fading  days,  whose 
fragrance,  as  the  sunset  draws  near,  inspires  the  “ sessions 
of  sweet  silent  thought.”  How  many  of  our  red-letter 
days,  days  of  triumphs  in  love  and  war,  of  hopes  fulfilled, 
have  faded  swiftly  into  the  formless  past;  days  that,  at 
the  time,  seemed  to  us  above  all  memorable,  when  we  felt 
inclined,  like  Joshua,  to  bid  the  sun  stand  still,  that  we 
might  rejoice  in  the  attainment  of  the  heart’s  desire.  Yet 
these  have  gone  from  us,  while  those  that  linger  are  hours 
that  came  of  themselves,  often  unbidden,  imperfectly 
realised,  hours  in  which  the  touch  of  a magic  hand,  the 
notes  of  an  echoing  song,  have  searched  out  the  very  depths 
of  our  being,  out  of  the  world  of  littleness  into  harmony 
with  the  infinite  wonder  and  mystery  of  existence.  I 
know  of  no  time  or  place  on  this  restless  whizzing  planet 
in  which  a man  is  more  likely  to  find  secret  bread  for 
memory’s  storehouse  than  the  bows  of  a ship,  making  its 
way,  beneath  the  thousand  eyes  of  night,  towards  the 
great  unknown,  where  sky  and  ocean  meet.  The  south- 
east trade  wind  moving  softly  over  the  great  waters,  sings 
to  the  rigging  its  song  of  far-off  frozen  wastes;  the  phos- 
phorescent sea,  gleaming  hke  sheets  of  metal  in  our  wake, 
is  a thing  of  mystery  and  beauty  unspeakable ; above  our 
heads,  from  the  uttermost  depths  of  space,  comes  the 
message  of  innumerable  worlds.  At  last  we  are  on  the 
way  to  the  never-never  land ; yonder  beyond  the  horizon, 
we  shall  find  the  gates  of  gold. 

Pernambuco,  as  one  sees  it  from  the  anchorage,  is  hardly 
suggestive  of  the  City  Beautiful.  It  is  indeed  rather  a 
dismal  introduction  to  the  new  world  of  our  dreams,  a 
mouldy,  melancholy  spot,  with  an  unsavoury  reputation 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


35 


for  yellow  fever,  bubonic  plague,  syphilis  and  other  unpleas- 
ant diseases.  The  inner  harbour,  with  a depth  of  twenty 
feet,  hes  between  the  shore  and  a curious  natural  reef  of 
stone,  parallel  thereto,  very  safe  and  snug;  its  entrance 
guarded  by  a fort  built  on  the  reef.  The  town,  whose 
real  name,  almost  forgotten  by  foreigners,  is  Recife,  stands 
on  the  sandy  beach  of  a lagoon  delta  where  two  rivers 
meet,  with  the  hill  of  Olinda  rising  five  miles  to  the  north- 
west; behind  it,  the  wooded  hills  merge  gradually  into 
the  flat-topped  chapadas  of  the  sertao  region.  As  to  its 
internal  condition,  the  towm  does  not  seem  to  have  for- 
gotten much,  or  learned  anything  worth  mentioning,  in 
regard  to  pubhc  sanitation  or  aesthetics,  since  Waterton 
saw  it  in  i8i6 ; it  still  gives  the  impression  that  “ every 
one  has  built  his  house  entirely  for  himself,  and  deprived 
public  convenience  of  the  little  claim  she  had  a right  to 
put  in.” 

” The  lamentable  want  of  cleanliness,”  the  mouldy  and 
neglected  appearance  of  many  houses,  which  he  deplored, 
are  still  in  evidence ; but  the  surrounding  country  is  very 
green  and  restful  to  the  traveller’s  eye,  and  one  feels,  with 
that  gentle  critic,  that  ” had  art  and  judgment  contributed 
their  portion  to  its  natural  advantages,  Pernambuco  at 
this  day  would  have  been  a stately  ornament  to  the  coast 
of  Brazil.”  As  it  is,  the  coast  of  Brazil  is  an  ornament 
to  Pernambuco.  But  the  damp  heat  of  the  tropics  is 
pleasantly  tempered  by  the  fresh  south-east  trade  winds, 
and  the  voice  of  romance,  the  ghosts  of  many  a great  adven- 
ture of  older  days,  still  whisper  at  dusk  in  the  shadow  of  the 
palms.  Is  not  the  Governor’s  palace  built  on  the  founda- 
tions of  a great  house  built  by  Maurice  of  Nassau  ? The 
Dutch  took  Recife  in  1620 — they  took  most  places  in  their 
day — and  before  then  the  city  had  been  rich  enough  to 
attract  the  attention  of  a roving  English  privateer,  James 


36  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

Lancaster,  who  captured  and  plundered  it  very  thoroughly 

in  1595- 

The  Araguaya  rides  to  the  never-ceasing  swell  a mile 
or  so  from  the  shore;  half  a dozen  of  our  passengers  are 
landed  by  means  of  a swinging  " cage,”  which  dumps 
them  into  a lighter  alongside.  Amongst  these  is  the  young 
woman  bent  on  marriage  to  the  man  she  has  never  seen ; 
there  was  no  sign  of  him  in  the  offing,  but  this  did  not 
prevent  the  courageous  lady  from  going  ashore  in  full 
bridal  array;  she  was  evidently  taking  no  chances.  In 
return  for  her,  Pernambuco  gave  us  many  strange-looking 
fruits.  The  mangoes  were  the  best  of  them,  but,  compared 
to  the  Manila  variety,  a poor  thing.  As  we  steamed  away 
at  sunset,  my  thoughts  were  of  the  enterprising  bride — did 
she  find  her  swain,  and,  if  not,  what  was  the  end  of  that 
story  ? 

Here,  as  at  Bahia,  thirty  hours’  journey  down  the  coast, 
we  took  in  a goodly  number  of  Brazileros  for  Rio,  fearful 
and  wonderful  menages,  whose  features  and  raiment  bore 
eloquent  witness  to  the  Black  Man’s  revenge  on  Portugal’s 
once-conquering  race.  There  were  stout  matrons,  hke 
brood  hens,  shepherding  swarms  of  swarthy  infants,  who 
spent  most  of  their  time  rummaging  and  bargaining  in  the 
barber’s  shop.  There  were  Brazihan  nuts,  oiled  and  curled 
like  the  Assyrian  bull,  laying  in  new  stocks  of  English 
flannels,  umbrellas  and  scent.  The  Brazilians’  penchant 
for  scent  amounts  to  a passion ; upon  their  coming  aboard, 
all  the  perfumes  of  Arabia  contended  for  mastery  in  the 
social  hall,  and  even  in  the  smoking-room  the  fragrance 
of  Havana  and  bird’s-eye  was  smothered  by  patchouh, 
verbena  and  fleur  d’ amour.  There  is  nothing  subtle  or 
instinctive  about  it,  as  there  is  in  the  Oriental’s  use  of 
sandalwood,  musk  and  myrrh,  nothing  even  elemental 
or  racy  of  the  soil.  The  thing  is  obviously  exotic,  like  the 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


37 


local  cult  of  French  novels  of  the  decadent  type;  the 
race's  sense  of  smell  seems  to  have  gone  on  a perpetual 
"jag,”  that  nothing  but  the  strongest  excitement  can 
satisfy. 

Bahia  de  Todos  os  Santos  looks  more  attractive  from  the 
sea  than  Pernambuco;  there  is  more  life  and  movement 
of  shipping,  and  the  harbour  works,  under  construction  by 
a French  company,  testify  to  local  enterprise.  But  in 
1915  and  1916,  in  fact  until  the  United  States’  declaration 
of  war  against  Germany  in  April  1917,  there  was  not  much 
cause  for  satisfaction,  as  far  as  Englishmen  were  concerned, 
in  Bahia’s  commercial  activities.  The  trail  of  the  German 
was  over  them  all.  The  policy  of  the  Governor  of  Bahia 
was  unmistakably  guided  by  the  insidious  influences  of 
German  propaganda,  substantially  backed  by  German 
money,  and  materially  assisted  by  the  flabby  ineptitude 
which  even  after  two  years  of  war  characterised  the  pro- 
ceedings of  our  own  Foreign  Office  and  Board  of  Trade 
in  the  matter  of  enemy  trading.  The  Brazilian  Federal 
Government’s  attitude  of  prudent  neutrality,  like  that  of 
Argentina,  was  natural  enough  under  the  circumstances. 
If  the  United  States  remained  aloof  from  the  war,  if  Great 
Britain  and  her  Allies  lacked  the  intelligence  and  initiative 
required  to  prevent  Germany  from  obtaining  vast  supplies 
of  food  and  raw  materials,  Brazil  could  scarcely  be  expected 
to  refrain  from  taking  advantage  of  the  situation  to  supple- 
ment her  diminished  revenues,  nor  could  the  Federal 
Government  at  Rio  be  expected  to  deal  severely  with  the 
Governors  of  States  like  Bahia,  which  thought  fit  to 
interpret  neutrality  in  the  way  their  German  friends 
wanted  it.  Every  Englishman  on  the  coast  was  perfectly 
well  aware  of  the  ultimate  destination  of  the  huge  ship- 
ments of  cocoa  and  coffee  that  left  Bahia,  ostensibly  for 
the  United  States  and  Sweden,  every  week;  the  regular 


38  ]\IEN,  MANNERS  AND  IMORALS 

steamer  traffic  between  Brazil  and  Scandinavia  was  a 
constant  subject  of  jubilation  to  the  German  colonies  in 
Brazil  and  a source  of  impotent  wrath  to  the  British 
cruiser  patrols  on  the  coast. 

The  Germans  at  Bahia  had  a firm  grip  of  the  machinery 
of  trade  in  1916;  even  when  no  shipping  facihties  were 
available  they  bought  up  large  stocks  of  goods,  partly 
because  their  astute  merchants  at  Hamburg  and  Bremen 
regarded  Brazihan  coffee  and  Argentine  wool  as  a better 
investment  than  the  German  mark,  and  partly  to  con- 
vince Brazil  that  it  would  pay  her  not  to  break  with 
such  an  open-handed  customer.  It  was  only  after  the 
institution  of  the  Allies’  Black  List,  and  when  it  became 
clear  that  North  America  would  soon  be  in  the  fray, 
that  facilities  for  German  commerce  overseas  came  to 
the  end  which,  but  for  the  inexphcable  obstinacy  of 
our  lawyer  politicians,  would  have  overtaken  it  early 
in  1915. 

There  were  several  German  ships  interned  at  Bahia, 
and  the  place  was  alive  with  truculent  Teutons  and  more 
than  dubious  aliens.  All  cargo  and  luggage  coming  aboard 
the  Araguaya  was  very  carefully  searched.  Only  a little 
while  before,  one  of  Germany’s  semi-official  exponents  of 
Kultur  had  succeeded  in  smuggling  a clockwork  bomb  on 
board  the  s.s.  Tennyson,  packed  in  a case  of  photo  films 
consigned  to  New  York.  The  bomb  was  timed  to  explode 
on  the  fourth  day,  in  order  to  fulfil  the  Luxburg  idea  of 
" sinking  without  trace  ” and  far  from  land ; by  a fortunate 
accident,  however,  the  ship  was  detained  for  three  days  at 
Bahia,  so  that  the  explosion  took  place  just  as  she  was 
nearing  Pernambuco,  and  she  was  able  to  make  the  harbour 
in  a damaged  condition. 

The  heavy  swell  that  never  ceases  at  Bahia,  combined 
with  the  defective  tug  and  lighter  arrangements  of  the 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


39 


harbour  authorities,  make  the  working  of  cargo  no  easy 
matter.  On  the  night  we  left,  a sudden  squall  coming  up 
from  the  north,  three  unwieldy  lighters,  laden  with  cocoa, 
broke  away  from  the  ship’s  side,  and,  having  no  tug  in 
attendance,  went  drifting  hopelessly  shorewards  with  much 
shouting — which  was  the  last  we  saw  of  them.  Local 
officialdom,  more  suo,  was  less  concerned  with  the  safety 
and  smooth  working  of  shipping  than  with  the  building 
of  the  new  boulevard-promenade  from  the  town  to  the 
lighthouse  at  the  end  of  the  bay. 

From  Bahia  we  roll  down  to  Rio,  the  north  wind  pursuing 
us  with  the  hot  breath  of  the  equator  most  of  the  way. 
The  ship  seems  to  have  absorbed  something  of  the  flavour 
of  decaying  tropical  vegetation  which  exudes  from  these 
shores,  where  the  swamp-fed  jungle  comes  down  to  the 
verge  of  the  sea;  there  is  a listlessness,  a sort  of  senti- 
mental drowsiness  in  the  air,  distinct  from  the  usual  feeling 
of  suspense  induced  by  the  imminence  of  sad,  or  glad, 
farewells.  After  dinner,  a sentimental  young  woman 
from  Sao  Paulo,  who  has  done  a good  deal  of  overtime  by 
moonlight  on  the  boat-deck,  sings  Tosti’s  “ Good-bye,” 
as  if  she  meant  every  word  of  it,  and  the  social  hall  simply 
oozes  sentiment.  Only  the  members  of  the  opera  troupe, 
long  inured  to  such  things,  are  impervious  to  the  subtle 
influence  of  the  hour;  their  eternal  game  of  " chips  that 
pass  in  the  night  ” goes  steadily  on. 

There  is  yet  another,  and  a very  pleasant,  way  of  going 
to  South  America,  namely,  by  one  of  the  “ V ” boats  of 
the  Lamport  and  Holt  Line,  that  roll  down  from  New  York 
through  the  tropics  and  the  Caribbean  Antilles.  As  a 
rule,  these  vessels  only  make  two  stops  on  the  voyage 
to  Buenos  Aires,  viz.  at  Barbados  and  Rio  de  Janeiro. 
They  travel  at  a dignified  fourteen  knots,  and  do  the 


40  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

trip  in  twenty-one  leisurely  days.  For  those  who  love 
the  tropic  seas  and  dream-fed  days  of  pampered  idleness, 
no  journey  could  offer  greater  attractions.  From  personal 
experience  (1919)  I can  recommend  the  good  ship 
Vestris  as  a thoroughly  comfortable  and  well-conducted 
habitation. 


SUNSET  OVER  RIO  BAY 


CHAPTER  III 


RIO  AND  PETROPOLIS 

Whether  you  see  it  by  night  or  by  day,  from  the  sea 
or  from  the  heights  of  Santa  Theresa,  Rio  is  beyond  all 
question  beautiful,  with  a beauty  that  lingers  like  that  of 
solemn  music.  Its  approaches  from  the  sea  are  as  mag- 
nificent as  its  background  of  wooded  hills ; it  is  a dazzling 
gem,  set  in  a splendid  frame  of  blue  and  green;  and 
very  stately  and  seemly,  on  a scale  befitting  the  grandeur 
of  the  scene  in  which  the  city  is  set,  are  the  public  gardens 
and  esplanades  that  skirt  the  water  front.  But  I think 
it  is  at  night,  from  a height  overlooking  the  harbour, 
where  amidst  the  whispering  pines  you  forget  the  jarring 
noises  of  the  day,  that  Rio  is  beautiful  beyond  anything 
that  words  can  express.  All  around  and  behind  us  the 
hills  close  in,  as  if  guarding  their  treasures  and  mysteries 
against  further  invasion,  their  flanks  teeming  with  the 
fierce  tropical  vegetation  against  which  all  the  works  of 
man’s  hands  are  but  as  the  labours  of  Liliputians;  out 
yonder,  just  topped  by  the  rising  moon,  the  sugar-loaf 
casts  its  vast  shadow  across  the  bay.  Beneath  us  the 
myriad  lights  of  the  city,  a perfect  blaze  at  the  centre 
and  on  the  water  front,  stretch  out  on  every  side  in 
graceful  lines,  like  fairy  processions,  until  in  the  far  dis- 
tance they  flicker  and  are  lost  in  the  curves  of  the 
hills. 

Never  was  a city  so  brilliantly  lighted  as  Rio.  Seafaring 
men  will  tell  you  that  you  can  sometimes  detect  the  glare 
of  it  a hundred  miles  away,  and  always  within  sixty  miks. 

41 


42  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  jMORALS 

It  is  the  boast  and  pride  of  aU  her  citizens.  As  a matter 
of  aesthetics  and  a preventative  of  the  evils  that  walk  in 
darkness,  the  money  is  doubtless  well  spent ; nevertheless, 
for  a city  and  a people  that  are  always  pleading  hopeless 
insolvency,  this  lavish  consumption  of  gas  and  electricity 
(especially  with  fuel  at  war  and  famine  prices)  seems 
somewhat  improvident.  It  is  not  for  us,  who  sit  in  the 
free  seats,  to  criticise  the  cost  of  the  entertainment,  not 
for  us  to  be  disturbed  by  the  explanation  which  residents 
volunteer  concerning  the  personal  interest  taken  by  certain 
of  the  City  Fathers  in  the  matter  of  public  lighting.  You 
hear  many  strange  things  about  officialdom  and  its  ways 
at  the  Club  Central,  but  so  many  of  the  men  you  meet 
there  are  hanging  on  in  the  forlorn  hope  of  collecting 
good  or  bad  debts  from  the  Government,  that  they  cannot 
but  diffuse  an  atmosphere  of  uncharitable  suspicion. 
They  tell  you,  for  example,  that  the  Brazilian  Dread- 
nought did  not  put  to  sea,  to  meet  the  U.S.S.  Tennessee 
on  March  23rd,  1916,  but  remained  snugly  moored  to 
the  wharf  (as  she  had  been  for  several  months)  because  the 
Admiralty  found  it  more  convenient  to  light  her  from  the 
city  mains  than  to  let  her  generate  her  own  electricity. 
This  arrangement  also  saved  cruising  coal  and  kept  her 
crew,  largely  composed  of  revolutionary  politicians,  in 
good  humour.  For  aU  of  which  I vouch  not. 

In  Rio,  by  day,  there  is  something  almost  oppressive 
in  the  spectacle,  and  at  the  thought,  of  the  giant  strength 
of  Nature,  held  here  in  check  at  the  cost  of  man’s  unceas- 
ing labour.  One  feels  that  the  forest  jungle,  this  resistless 
sea  of  chnging  green  which  laps  and  saps  at  every  unde- 
fended point,  has  not  been  beaten ; it  is  only  pushed  back, 
curbed  and  restrained  for  a little  while,  and  some  day 
Nature  will  take  her  revenge.  She  gave  us  a shght  sample 
of  her  resources  in  ^larch  1916.  As  the  result  of  unusually 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


43 


heavy  rains,  a large  part  of  the  lower  sections  of  the  town 
was  suddenly  flooded,  and  a few  superfluous  people  were 
drowned  in  the  streets;  further  back,  shces  of  the  hill- 
side were  washed  away,  so  that  from  the  tram-hne  you  saw 
the  back  rooms  of  a villa  from  which  the  terrace  had 
departed,  leaving  wisps  of  drain-pipes  hanging  in  mid- 
air, or  a front  staircase  that  had  slithered  gently  down  to 
rest  among  a group  of  supremely  indifferent  palms.  But 
even  without  a sudden  onslaught  like  this,  you  see  un- 
mistakable signs  of  the  ceaseless  pressure  of  the  forest 
whenever  you  move  even  a little  way  beyond  the  main 
arteries  of  the  city’s  traffic — creepers  that  swiftly  cover 
and  strangle  every  undefended  wall,  great  spreading  roots 
of  trees  that  raise  the  concrete  pavement  from  its  bed, 
as  with  a Titan’s  hand. 

A trip  on  the  Leopoldina  Railway  between  Rio  and 
Petropohs  reveals  something  of  the  grimness  of  the 
struggle  that  Ues  before  the  modern  conquistador,  the 
tiller  of  the  soil,  in  this  country.  In  bygone  days  this 
region  was  all  cultivated  by  hardy  Portuguese  and  even 
by  German  settlers,  but  to-day  the  line  runs  through 
dreary  wastes  of  swamp  and  matted  jungle  growth.  The 
settlers  moved  on,  it  seems,  seeking  easier  labour  further 
west,  and  the  gradual  silting  up  of  the  river  made  swamps 
of  what  had  been  fields.  Later,  a German  company 
secured  a concession  to  reclaim  the  land  by  dredging, 
and  to  grow  rice  and  cotton  thereon,  but  their  money 
gave  out  in  the  struggle  and  once  more  Nature  came  into 
her  own.  Wherever  she  is  still  held  back,  in  scattered 
clearings,  it  is  with  a puny  hold.  The  httle  houses  with 
their  fenced  gardens  look  like  islands  in  the  tangled  wilder- 
ness, their  outposts  and  defences  often  buried  in  the 
invading  undergrowth.  Here  you  may  see  a blue-painted 
mud-cabin,  bearing  the  pathetic  legend  " Casa  Paz  y 


44  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

Amor  ” ; and  there  a wooden  shanty  labelled  “ Bazar 
Aurora,”  with  a goat,  a few  hens  and  a patch  of  vege- 
tables ; and  crowding  in  upon  them  are  the  vanguard  of 
the  forests’  armies,  palms  and  tree-ferns,  acacias  and  bam- 
boos. Even  the  railway  line  seems  to  shrink  before 
them,  confessing  itself  an  impertinent  intruder.  Horlick’s 
“ three  cows  ” advertisement,  suddenly  looming  up 
against  a background  of  jungle,  becomes  a fantastic 
derelict  and  a warning.  The  prolific  richness  of  this  tropic 
soil  is  its  defence  against  the  hand  of  man. 

The  city  itself  gives  the  impression  of  being  remarkably 
energetic  and  well  organised  as  to  its  business.  Railways 
run  down  to  and  along  the  wharves,  taking  cargo  directly 
to  and  from  the  ships.  Porters  and  police,  all  in  neat 
uniforms,  are  numerous  and  generally  civil.  It  is  difficult 
to  reconcile  all  these  outward  and  visible  signs  of  bustling 
and  orderly  activity,  with  what  one  knows  of  the  condi- 
tion of  Brazil's  trade  and  finances.  Later  on,  when  you 
have  looked  beneath  the  surface  of  things  and  compared 
the  activities  and  achievements  of  Rio  with  those  of 
other  Brazilian  cities,  you  begin  to  realise  that  the  capital 
is  essentially  a landing-place  and  a port  of  distribution, 
its  profitable  business  derived  chiefly  from  pickings  and 
commissions,  and  that  even  this  business  is  to  a very  great 
extent  in  the  hands  of  aliens — Italians,  British  and 
Americans,  and  not  of  the  native  born.  Your  pukka 
Brazilian  of  the  educated  class  has  never  got  rid  of  his 
Portuguese  forefathers’  distaste  for  honest  work : his 
idea  of  a respectable  vocation  is  a Government  job,  and 
a sinecure  for  choice.  The  number  of  portfolios  one  meets 
in  a morning’s  walk  affords  a fair  idea  of  the  locust- 
swarms  of  bureaucracy  that  prey  upon  productive  industry 
in  this  country — no  self-respecting  clerk  will  go  wthout 
one.  Rio  in  this  matter  is  Portugal  translated,  with  a 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


45 


wider  background  of  opportunity ; moreover,  it  is  charac- 
terised, just  as  Lisbon  is,  by  feverish  pohtical  activities, 
and  by  an  ostentatious  imitation  of  Parisian  fashions  in 
dress  and  social  amenities.  There  is,  of  course,  a frugal, 
hard-working  class  of  Brazilians,  but  the  great  majority 
of  these  are  comparatively  recent  immigrants  drawn  from 
the  peasantry  of  northern  Portugal.  The  class  of  citizen 
produced  by  the  intermarriage  of  Portuguese  with 
negroes,  mulattoes  and  quadroons  would  appear  to  be 
socially  and  economically  less  profitable  to  the  State  than 
the  full-blooded  negro;  it  is  a breed  which  acquires  the 
modern  proletariat’s  exaggerated  idea  of  individual’s 
rights  without  any  compensating  idea  of  duty  to  the 
State,  and  produces  a curious  blend  of  primitive  childish- 
ness and  precocious  modernity.  In  Rio  evidence  con- 
fronts you  at  every  step,  and  in  all  classes  of  society, 
of  the  extent  to  which  this  interbreeding  has  affected 
the  race — far  more  so  than  at  Sao  Paulo  and  other  inland 
cities,  where  the  flowing  tide  of  Italian  immigration  has 
determined  the  structural  character  of  the  community. 

The  country’s  financial  necessities,  which  had  reached 
a critical  stage  at  the  end  of  1914  (with  a foreign  debt 
of  one  hundred  and  four  milhons  sterling),  became  much 
less  acute  in  1916;  the  war  had  by  that  time  done  for 
Brazil  something  that  its  politicians  could  never  have  done 
by  talking,  that  is  to  say,  it  had  compelled  the  country 
to  produce  for  itself  many  things  that  it  had  been  in  the 
habit  of  buying  on  credit ; it  had  thus  led  to  a consider- 
able development  of  agriculture  and  reduced  the  number 
of  shopkeepers.  The  Government’s  expedients  for  raising 
money,  and  the  prevailing  scarcity  of  cash,  were  none 
the  less  clearly  perceptible.  Everything  taxable  is  taxed 
in  Brazil,  either  under  a tariff  so  complicated  that  it 
takes  a despachanie  expert  to  deal  with  it,  or  under 


46  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


the  consumption  impost.  If  you  buy  a hat,  you  will 
find  a ticket  pasted  inside  it  showing  that  the  Government 
has  levied  2000  reis  on  it ; on  a bottle  of  eau-de-Cologne 
they  pinch  1000  reis.  Even  a syphon  of  locally  made 
soda-water  has  to  have  its  spout  sealed  with  a forty-reis 
stamp.  The  ingenuity  of  an  army  of  Custom  House 
employes  is  continually  directed  towards  bringing  more 
grist  to  the  tax-mill.  In  the  summer  of  1916,  for  example, 
one  of  them  conceived  the  brilliant  idea  of  charging  duty 
on  foreign  newspapers  arriving  by  post — the  Postal  Union 
regulations  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding — and  this 
they  proceeded  to  do,  levying  duty  on  the  weight,  so  that 
the  local  newsagents  had  to  employ  special  men  to  clear 
their  papers  through  the  Post  Ofiice.  The  Times  rose 
promptly  to  the  dignity  of  a sixpenny  paper. 

Another  visible  result  of  the  war,  and  of  the  increasing 
difficulty  of  collecting  debts  in  1916,  was  that  many 
trades  had  seen  fit  to  adopt  the  cash  system.  It  is  a 
system  which  has  its  merits,  but  it  may  be  carried  to 
excess.  I understand  paying  on  the  nail  for  goods 
received,  but  it  goes  against  the  grain  to  be  asked  by  a 
photographer  to  pay  for  the  development  of  films  before 
he  has  done  the  job,  or  to  be  mulcted  of  a dentist’s  fee 
before  he  has  extracted  your  tooth. 

It  was  vouchsafed  to  me  to  study  the  workings  of  the 
tariff  at  close  quarters.  For  the  furtherance  of  the  good 
cause  of  the  Alhes,  and  in  order  that  the  Brazihans  might 
come  to  a better  understanding  of  Germany  and  the 
Germans,  I had  brought  out  several  complete  sets  of 
Raemaekers’  coloured  cartoons,  intending  in  the  first 
place  to  organise  an  exhibition  which  might  lead  to  their 
distribution  through  the  country.  The  idea,  fortified  by 
official  blessings  from  London,  was  warmly  welcomed  by 
the  local  Committee  of  the  Liga  pelos  Alliades,  a small 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


47 


but  enthusiastic  body  of  German-haters,  who  undertook 
to  organise  the  exhibition.  But  we  had  reckoned  without 
the  Custom  House.  After  two  days  of  ponderous  thought, 
the  appraisers  decided  that  duty  must  be  paid  on  the 
pictures  by  weight  at  the  rate  of  231  milreis  (about 
£ii  los.)  per  set  of  180  cartoons.  They  were  good  enough 
to  explain  that  most  of  the  weight  was  in  the  cardboard 
mounts,  and  that  if  the  pictures  were  unmounted,  the 
duty  would  be  much  less.  As  this  meant  an  end  to  all 
ideas  of  bringing  Raemaekers  home  to  the  Brazilian 
masses,  the  League  indited  a petition  to  the  Minister 
of  Finance ; but  His  Excellency  was  going  for  a joy-ride 
to  the  Pan-American  Conference  at  Buenos  Aires,  and 
naturally  cared  for  none  of  these  things.  Then  we  engaged 
the  services  of  a despachante,  reputed  to  be  an  expert 
in  circumventing  the  tariff,  but  he  speedily  proved  to  be 
a wind-fed  man  of  straw.  Finally,  supported  by  a member 
of  the  British  Consulate  Staff,  I secured  admission  to  the 
office  of  the  Chief  Inspector  of  Customs — a highly  scented 
sanctum,  decorated  with  floral  offerings  and  several 
ladies’  photographs ; from  this  bower  I emerged,  re  infecta, 
deeply  convinced  of  the  universal  power  of  red  tape,  and 
of  the  blood  brotherhood  of  bureaucrats.  The  cartoons 
remained  in  durance  for  over  two  months,  and  were  ulti- 
mately released,  I believe,  on  solemn  recognisances  being 
given  by  the  Liga  pelos  Alliades,  and  upon  the  under- 
standing that  the  case  was  not  to  be  regarded  as  a 
precedent. 

The  attitude  of  the  great  majority  of  Brazilians  at  this 
period  was  unmistakably  anti-German,  but  the  far- 
reaching  effects  of  Germany’s  propaganda  and  political 
finance  were  equally  reflected  in  the  cautious  neutrality 
of  the  official  and  mercantile  classes.  Even  a French 
bookseller  in  Rio,  whom  I approached  on  the  subject  of 


48  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

exhibiting  the  Raemaekers  cartoons  in  his  window, 
dechned  the  honour  on  the  ground  that  he  could  not  afford 
to  irritate  his  Brazilian  clients,  amongst  whom  many  had 
close  relations  with  Germans,  and  that  the  price  of  plate- 
glass  had  become  prohibitive.  Amongst  British  importers 
and  shippers  also,  there  were  to  be  found  those  who 
thought  it  best  not  to  antagonise  Wille,  the  all-powerful 
(local  boss  of  the  Hamburg- Amerika  Line),  so  long  as  no 
definite  order  in  Council  had  prohibited  the  carrying  of 
German  goods  in  British  ships.  Business  is  business,  all 
the  world  over,  and  until  the  United  States  took  the  lead, 
Brazil  was  not  taking  any  rash  chances  of  German 
reprisals.  But  the  sentiments  of  the  populace  were  just 
as  clearly  hostile  to  Germany  in  Rio  as  they  were  in 
Buenos  Aires,  once  the  nature  and  objects  of  Deutschdmn 
became  understood,  and  when  people  had  begun  to  realise 
the  cold-blooded  cynical  devilry  of  German  diplomacy,  as 
practised  by  Count  Luxburg  and  his  agents.  And  the 
Germans  themselves  were  beginning  to  realise  the  situa- 
tion. No  longer,  as  in  the  early  days  of  the  war,  did  they 
swagger  and  boast  of  what  they  were  going  to  do  in  South 
America,  when  once  England  and  France  had  been  con- 
quered. No,  Fritz  and  Hans  were  walking  dehcately  and 
speaking  smooth  things  in  Rio  in  the  summer  of  1916, 
evidently  beginning  to  perceive  that,  even  if  Germany 
should  escape  mihtary  defeat,  no  power  on  earth  could 
ever  serve  to  obhterate  the  infamy  which  had  become 
her  portion  throughout  the  seven  seas.  After  the  sinking 
of  the  Lusitania,  all  Germans  were  expelled  from  the  Club 
Central  at  Rio;  the  Kaiser’s  portrait  disappeared  from 
shop  windows,  and  the  five  able-bodied  Teutons  who 
made  their  living  by  discoursing  music  in  the  streets,  found 
discretion  the  better  part  of  valour  and  modified  their 
repertoire  on  international  lines.  Herr  Wille’s  stately 


IN  RIO  HARBOUR 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


4{/ 


marble  hall,  the  Hamburg-Amerika’s  place  of  bur:,mess  in 
the  Avenida  Rio  Branco,  now  tenanted  by  two  listless 
clerks  and  void  of  customers,  conveyed  the  meaning  of 
sea-power  in  a way  that  even  the  humblest  citizen  could 
appreciate.  Its  impressive  and  aggressive  style  of  archi- 
tecture, a combination  of  the  mailed  fist  and  old  Heidel- 
berg sentimentality,  had  become  definitely  associated  in 
the  public  mind  with  the  unspeakable  depravity  of  German 
Kultur.  Like  the  arrogantly-exclusive  German  colonies  of 
Santa  Catharina  and  Rio  Grande  de  Sul,  it  had  come  to 
represent  something  permanently  alien  and  sinister,  a 
menace  to  the  future  safety  of  the  Republic.  Long  before 
diplomatic  relations  were  broken  off  by  their  Govern- 
ment in  April  1917,  patriotic  Brazilians  were  wont  to 
expectorate  on  passing  a German  Consulate  or  Bank. 

In  the  spring  of  1916,  the  best  hotels  in  Rio,  the  " Cen- 
tral ” in  the  town  and  the  " International  ” on  the  hill, 
were  still  too  much  frequented  by  Germans  to  be  pleasant ; 
I took  up  my  abode,  therefore,  at  the  " Moderne,”  half- 
way up  Santa  Theresa,  where  mine  host,  a good  French- 
man, would  have  none  of  them  at  any  price.  There  is  a 
wonderful  view  of  the  harbour  and  hills  from  the  terrace 
of  the  " Moderne,”  and  it  is  fairly  out  of  the  mosquito 
zone;  also,  from  that  terrace,  in  the  early  morning  and 
at  sundown,  you  can  study  the  domestic  habits  of  many 
humble  households,  chiefly  negroid,  in  the  little  valley 
just  below.  The  average  Brazilian  of  the  humbler  class 
(especially  the  negro)  does  not  regard  domestic  privacy 
as  essential;  in  fact,  judging  by  the  glimpses  of  family 
life  that  one  gets  as  the  tramcars  pass  the  houses  which 
line  the  approach  to  the  old  aqueduct  bridge,  they  display 
their  vte  intime  as  cheerfully  as  gold-fishes  in  a glass 
bowl. 

From  the  little  cluster  of  thatched  cottages  below  the 
E 


50  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

“ Moderne  ” there  comes,  day  and  night,  a strident 
clamour  of  barking  dogs  and  crowing  cocks.  Every  cabin 
has  its  cur  or  two,  and  apparently  every  cur  has  a griev- 
ance, which  it  never  ceases  to  air.  On  moonhght  nights 
the  noise  assumes  the  dignity  of  a demonstration.  Wdiy 
the  cocks  should  persistently  crow  at  night  is  a mystery, 
but  they  do,  and  the  practice  in  no  wise  diminishes  their 
lung-power  at  dawn.  At  that  hour  all  the  energies  of 
human  and  animal  life  in  this  little  valley  seem  to  be  con- 
centrated on  the  production  of  noise.  Vociferous  domestic 
argument,  rising  and  faUing  amidst  the  blowing  of  pedlars’ 
horns,  the  howling  of  babes  and  the  lamentations  of  much 
miscellaneous  live  stock.  Much  of  the  hamlet’s  toilet 
was  performed  al  fresco,  with  a good  deal  of  interesting 
deshabille  in  evidence.  Thereafter,  when  the  men  had 
been  fed  and  gone  forth  to  their  labours,  comparative 
peace  reigned.  Babies  and  clothes  were  washed  during 
the  forenoon,  by  women  whose  raiment  never  got  beyond 
the  shpper-cum-peignoir  stage.  The  peignoir  habit, 
indeed,  extends  from  the  humblest  up  to  the  highest 
ranks  of  society;  and  in  many  ways  it  seems  to  typify 
the  national  habit  of  mind.  The  capacity  of  the  average 
half-bred  Brazilian  for  sitting  by  the  hour  in  absolute, 
blank-minded  idleness  almost  equals  that  of  the  Oriental. 
But  when  one  considers  how  great  has  been  the  admixture 
of  the  imported  African  negro  stock  into  the  population 
of  Brazil  and  how  recent  the  abohtion  of  slavery  (1888), 
one  ceases  to  wonder  at  many  characteristics  and  customs 
of  this  people.  It  is  sometimes  a little  difficult  to  remem- 
ber how  slowly  for  centuries,  how  quickly  of  late,  things 
have  moved  in  Brazil,  to  reaUse  that  many  of  the  negroes 
one  meets  were  actually  slaves  thirty  years  ago,  and  that 
it  will  take  something  more  than  a generation  to  eradicate 
in  the  wealthier  classes  the  habits  of  body  and  mind  that 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


51 


grew  out  of  the  owning  of  human  chattels.  And  in 
judging  of  the  future  of  the  country  one  has  also  to  bear 
in  mind  that  the  importation  of  African  negroes  ceased 
in  i860,  and  that  since  then  the  country,  especially  the 
south,  has  been  receiving  a steady  influx  of  white  immi- 
grants, sturdy  Portuguese  peasants  and  thrifty  Italians. 
In  time,  no  doubt.  South  Brazil  will  be  white  while  the 
north  remains  largely  black. 

When,  after  the  hour  of  the  siesta,  the  wives  and 
daughters  of  the  people  don  garments  of  respectability 
and  take  the  air  en  famille  in  the  Avenida  or  in  the  public 
gardens,  the  general  absence  of  all  apparent  motive  in 
their  movements  also  reminds  one  of  the  contemplative 
East.  Men  and  women  alike  walk  the  street  hke  somnam- 
bulists ; the  women’s  faces  generally  wear  a stolidly 
detached  expression,  emphasised  by  the  conventional 
decorum,  which  in  public  ignores  the  existence  of  the 
other  sex  and  feigns  not  to  hear  its  Rabelaisian  quips. 
The  men  either  saunter  along  or  stand  in  groups,  patting 
each  other  affectionately  on  the  back  and  discussing  local 
politics  with  much  wealth  of  gesture,  complacently  block- 
ing the  footpath.  The  Avenida  after  four  o’clock  is  a 
place  for  conversation  rather  than  for  locomotion ; 
Europeans,  and  other  foolish  people  in  a hurry,  generally 
hire  a taxi.  These  vehicles  are  good  of  their  kind,  nearly 
all  French  machines,  and  greatly  patronised  for  joy-riding 
by  Brazilian  blades.  Each  carries  two  drivers,  solitary 
labour  being  uncongenial  to  the  native  mind ; the  second 
man’s  duty  seems  to  consist  in  winding  up  the  car,  lighting 
the  driver’s  cigarette,  and  keeping  his  eye  on  the  police. 

Observe  a Rio  policeman  directing  traffic,  and  you  will 
begin  to  understand  something  of  the  mental  habits  and 
political  institutions  of  this  people.  Before  everything 
else,  your  Brazilian  bobby  is  an  official.  He  stands  for 


52  MEN,  INIANNERS  AND  MORALS 


the  majesty  of  bureaucracy,  where  the  English  type  stands 
for  the  majesty  of  abstract  law  and  order.  From  the 
hospitable  precincts  of  the  Engineers’  Club,  looking  down 
on  the  Avenida,  I watched  one,  a slim  young  negro,  at 
his  work.  There  was  nothing  of  the  soulless  automaton 
about  him ; he  represented  all  the  infinite  complexity  of 
the  human  equation.  With  his  white  wand  of  office  in 
his  hand,  artistically  extended,  he  would  weigh  in  his 
nimble  mind  the  merits  of  vehicles  approaching  from 
opposite  comers  and  suddenly  decide  in  favour  of  one 
or  the  other  on  grounds  best  known  to  himself.  This 
done,  he  would  sign  or  even  call  to  the  favoured  one  to 
advance.  At  each  change  of  his  baton’s  semaphoric 
direction,  he  would  whistle,  and  the  whistling  was  prac- 
tically incessant.  If  a pedestrian  interrupted  the  perform- 
ance to  ask  him  a question,  the  entire  traffic  was  stopped, 
unless,  in  his  eagerness  to  give  the  desired  information, 
he  happened  to  gesticulate  with  the  wand,  in  which  case 
every  vehicle  proceeded  to  interpret  the  signals  in  its  own 
favour. 

Rio  is  very  proud  of  its  shops,  and  of  their  display  of 
all  the  latest  imported  luxuries  and  vanities.  It  is  proud 
of  its  ornate  tessellated  pavements  and  distinctly  decora- 
tive system  of  street  lighting.  Like  every  other  city  in 
South  America,  it  has  acquired  the  picture-palace  disease 
in  an  acute  form,  and  those  who  cater  to  the  public’s  taste 
in  this  kind  of  entertainment  appear  to  have  a very  low 
estimate  of  its  morals  and  mental  condition.  The  class 
of  film  from  which  these  people  derive  their  ideas  of  life 
beyond  their  horizon,  consists  almost  entirely  of  maudlin 
sentimentality,  cmde  tomfoolery,  crimes  'passionnds  and 
burglary  invested  with  a flavour  of  romance.  When  one 
thinks  of  what  the  Cinema  might  do  towards  educating 
this  imaginative,  emotional  race,  and  what  it  is  actually 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


53 


doing  to  debauch  their  minds  and  give  them  a perversely 
distorted  conception  of  the  rest  of  the  world,  one  is 
inclined  to  question  the  benefits  of  our  civihsation  with  all 
its  inventions  of  clicking  machinery.  Most  of  the  paternal 
governments,  run  by  and  for  professional  politicians,  in 
the  Latin  Republics,  are  eloquent,  like  our  own  demagogues, 
in  the  profession  of  highly  moral  sentiments.  You  will 
find  their  exhortations  to  public  virtue  circulating,  in 
lieu  of  advertisements,  on  Government  matchboxes  and 
in  other  unexpected  places,  but  neither  the  Board  of 
Education  nor  any  other  Government  department  would 
appear  to  have  considered  the  demorahsing  results  of  the 
intellectual  hogwash  in  which  the  citizens  are  invited  to 
wallow  by  the  Press  and  the  Picture-palace. 

The  Cinema,  like  the  Lottery,  is,  of  course,  a stimulant, 
and  human  nature  demands  stimulants  of  one  kind  or 
another;  but  it  is  the  business  of  intelligent  rulers  to  see 
that  they  are  supplied  in  a form  that  is  not  positively 
poisonous.  As  for  the  Lottery,  pace  our  Anglo-Saxon 
ideas  on  the  subject,  it  seems  to  me  that  properly  con- 
ducted, there  is  no  reason  for  this  institution  to  be  demoral- 
ising. On  the  contrary,  it  may  be  made  to  supply  a 
perfectly  natural  craving  for  harmless  excitement  at  a 
moderate  cost  to  the  individual,  and  with  benefit  to  the 
State.  To  buy  for  five  milreis  a month’s  day-dreams 
of  well-fed  ease,  or  visions  of  a cosy  little  fazenda  in  the 
foothills,  is  surely  to  get  better  value  in  stimulants  than 
if  the  money  were  spent  on  gin  ? Indeed,  what  could  be 
wiser,  in  dealing  with  a people  that  insists  on  dreaming, 
than  to  provide  them  with  roseate  visions  at  a price 
that  even  the  humblest  peon  can  well  afford  by  denying 
himself  other  and  less  innocent  luxuries  ? But  the  craving 
of  the  Brazilian  race  for  this  kind  of  stimulant  is  a thing 
which  a wise  Government  would  tackle  gently;  in  Brazil 


54  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


it  is  gratified  to  excess,  and  the  profits  which  the  State 
makes  in  the  process  are  excessive.  The  votaries  at  the 
shrine  of  the  fickle  goddess  are  made  to  pay  an  exorbitant 
price  for  their  dreams,  and  the  dreams  are  too  short. 
The  bureaucracy  here  fattens  on  the  Lottery  business, 
just  as  in  old  Russia  it  lived  by  exploiting  the  national 
craving  for  drink;  Church  and  State  see  to  it  that  the 
drawings  succeed  each  other  with  feverish  activity.  At 
Easter  and  other  high  festivals  prizes  and  prices  are 
doubled ; the  streets  swarm  with  ragged  urchins  and  touts, 
w'ho  press  their  tickets  upon  you  at  every  step,  raucously 
shouting  their  numbers  and  inviting  you  to  step  up  and 
win  80,000  contos  de  reis.  Nazareth  and  Co.  and  their 
ubiquitous  kindred  do  a roaring  trade,  profiting,  after 
the  manner  of  their  race,  by  the  foolish  weakness  of  the 
Gentiles. 

For  the  stranger  within  its  gates,  Rio  is  withal  a very 
pleasant  place;  full  of  the  ethereal  fragrance  of  tropic 
days  and  nights,  of  quivering  lights  and  shadows;  a 
garden  city,  set  with  orange  groves  and  rustling  palms, 
between  blue  waters  and  soft,  shimmering  hills.  Beyond 
the  raucous  voices  of  the  main  streets  you  may  w^ander 
and  dream  in  restful  by-ways,  like  those  of  the  sea-bound 
towns  of  northern  Portugal,  through  little  plazas  slumber- 
ing in  the  sun,  past  old-world  gardens,  w^here  children 
laugh  and  play,  and  shaded  patios,  whose  marble  pave- 
ments glisten  and  gleam  amidst  white  and  purple  flow^ers 
and  cool  ferns.  Even  in  the  heart  of  the  city  there  are 
spots  which  remind  one  of  the  people  and  days  that  were 
before  tramways  were  invented ; one  such  is  the  fountain 
in  the  Largo  da  Carioca,  where  the  women  come  to  gossip 
and  draw  water.  They  carry  it  (generally  in  kerosene 
tins)  on  their  heads,  as  Latin  w'omen  should,  and  they  walk 
with  a curious  undulating  movement  of  the  hips  and  a, 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


55 


flexibly  rigid  back,  that  remind  you  at  once  of  the  market 
women  of  Lisbon  and  Vigo. 

It  is  winter  in  Rio  from  May  to  July,  but  the  days  can 
be  unpleasantly  hot  in  the  lower  levels  of  the  city,  when 
the  north  wind  comes  laden  with  the  heavy  breath  of  the 
wilderness  of  forest  and  swamp,  that  lies  between  us  and 
the  Caribbean.  Even  when  the  fresh  south  breeze  blows, 
it  is  quite  warm  enough  for  the  average  Anglo-Saxon; 
but  the  climate  is  not  unhealthy,  if  one  will  live  sensibly, 
now  that  the  yellow  fever  danger  has  been  removed. 
The  scourge  which  of  old  made  the  ports  of  Brazil  a by- 
word and  a terror  to  British  seamen,  has  been  lifted  from 
the  land ; medical  science  (which,  by  the  way,  attains  to 
a very  high  standard  in  South  America)  has  shown  that 
the  fever-bearing  mosquito  can  be  prevented  from  breed- 
ing in  and  about  the  abodes  of  man,  and  the  regulations 
on  the  subject  of  stagnant  water  are  now  well  observed 
as  a rule.  Here  and  there  a certain  amount  of  laxity, 
born  of  immunity,  is  noticeable,  and  sooner  or  later  Rio 
will  no  doubt  pay  the  penalty  of  easy-going  ways  in 
dealing  with  Stegomyia  Calopus,  as  they  have  paid  it 
at  Colon,  Bahia  and  other  places ; but  the  plague  can  never 
again  infect  whole  districts,  or  close  the  harbour  to  trade, 
as  it  used  to  do  before  Doctors  Nazear  and  Cruz  had 
convicted  the  mosquito  of  its  crimes  and  had  freed  the 
Caribbean  zone  from  the  " pestilence  that  walked  in 
darkness  and  the  destruction  that  wasted  at  noonday.” 

Within  two  hours’  journey  by  rail  from  the  capital, 
snugly  ensconced  among  the  hills,  lies  Petropolis,  fashion- 
able resort  of  native  legislators  en  villegiature  and  of  foreign 
diplomacy  en  neglige.  A cool  and  pleasant  resting-place 
is  this  monument  to  the  sesthetic  business  instincts  of 
Dom  Pedro,  with  its  bijou  residences  and  trim  streets, 
its  bamboo  hedges  that  grow  to  twenty  feet  in  height, 


56  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


its  gardens  ablaze  with  hydrangeas,  its  fuchsias  and  roses. 
Just  the  sort  of  place  to  which  diplomacy,  weary  of  well- 
doing or  convinced  of  futility,  loves  to  escape  from  the 
indignities  of  office,  to  dream  in  peace  of  old  age,  covered 
with  decorations  and  nourished  on  a liberal  pension.  All 
over  the  world  la  Carriere  has  found  or  created  ideal  spots 
of  this  kind,  far  from  the  madding  crowd,  where  tea- 
parties  and  tennis,  bridge,  badinage  and  all  the  other 
parlour  tricks  of  polite  society  may  be  enjoyed  in  comfort 
and  without  interruption  from  the  outside  world;  spots 
in  which,  for  three  or  four  months  in  the  year,  a harassed 
Minister  and  his  faithful  staff  may  dodge  most  of  the 
commercial  travellers,  wandering  journalists  and  inquisi- 
tive M.P.s,  who  consider  it  their  duty  and  their  right 
to  infest  the  Chancelleries.  Delightful  oases  all,  in  a 
wilderness  of  sordid  affairs,  these  retreats  of  diplomacy 
abroad  : Pei-taiho  for  Peking,  Chusenji  for  Tokyo,  New- 
port for  Washington,  Alt-Aussee  for  Vienna,  Yalta  for 
Petrograd,  Petropolis  for  Rio.  If  you  have  no  business 
to  discuss,  or  will  refrain  from  discussing  it,  nowhere  on 
earth  will  you  find  better  entertainment  or  more  hospitable 
hosts. 

Very  interesting,  in  this  land  where  you  see  mankind 
in  the  melting-pot  of  mixed  races,  are  the  descendants  of 
Julius  Kohler’s  3000  German  settlers,  imported  by  Dom 
Pedro  II  in  1845  as  examples  of  industry  for  his  people 
and  for  the  making  of  Petropolis;  curious,  how  fhe  ptire 
Teutonic  type  has  persisted  in  spite  of  all  temptations, 
and  of  comparative  isolation ; even  where  there  has  been 
intermarriage,  the  German  stock  seems  to  predominate 
in  the  offspring,  and  to  be  devoid  of  any  instincts  of 
assimilation.  They  manage  their  own  affairs,  these  exiles 
from  the  Fatherland,  serving  the  good  old  German  god 
in  the  good  old  German  way,  educating  little  Hans  and 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


57 


Gretchen  to  despise  their  thriftless  fellow-citizens,  and  to 
stand  firm  for  Deutschdum  in  partibus  infidelium.  Up 
to  the  time  of  Brazil’s  joining  the  Allies,  these  grateful 
recipients  of  the  New  World’s  hospitality  ran  their  own 
German  school  in  Petropolis,  as  they  did  at  many  places 
farther  south,  under  the  auspices  of  State-assisted  colonisa- 
tion companies,  affiliated  to  the  German  Banks  as  agents 
of  wdt-politik.  Meeting  the  children  as  they  came  out 
of  school  one  morning,  I asked  one  sturdy  blue-eyed  lad 
what  they  taught  him  there.  “ Nur  Deutsch,”  said  he; 
and  no  doubt  the  Hymn  of  Hate  was  included  in  the 
curriculum.  Here,  amidst  the  hills,  the  war  was  worlds 
away,  but  the  truculent  swagger  of  this  Brazil-bred 
German  boy  was  a significant  reminder  of  its  fundamental 
origin. 

At  the  time  of  my  visit,  the  bourgeoisie  of  Petropolis 
was  doing  its  best  to  celebrate  the  Carnival.  There  was 
a “ German  Ball  ” for  the  general  public,  roulette  and 
a dance  at  the  Palace  Hotel,  and  other  mild  functions. 
But  the  rain  fell  steadily,  in  a steamy  downpour  that  kept 
most  people  indoors  (Brazilians  have  an  almost  Oriental 
dislike  for  getting  wet — even  the  navvies  at  work  on  the 
railway  line  carry  umbrellas)  and  the  festival  was  shorn 
of  its  customary  pomp  and  ceremonies.  I do  not  know 
why  it  should  be  so,  but  rain  certainly  has  a more  damp 
and  depressing  effect  in  the  tropics  than  wnth  us.  It 
may  be  because  behind  it  there  lurk  no  heart-warming 
visions  of  cosiness  and  coal  fires;  again,  it  may  be  due 
to  the  demoralising  effect  of  moisture  upon  the  habita- 
tions and  handiwork  of  man  in  this  chmate.  On  a wet 
day  the  houses  ooze  and  drip  as  if  in  sympathy  with  the 
dank  vegetation  around  them;  the  copings  of  walls  and 
the  plaster  statues  dear  to  the  Brazilian  soul  seem  to  be 
melting  visibly.  In  the  midst  of  Petropolis  there  stands 


58  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


an  imposing  and  melancholy  ruin  of  a great  church  that 
was  begun  by  Dom  Pedro’s  daughter,  the  masterful 
Princess  Isabella,  some  time  after  her  marriage  with  the 
Comte  d’Eu  in  the  ’sixties.  Churches  are  of  slow  and 
stately  growth  in  this  land,  where  the  donations  of  the 
faithful  are  apt  to  depend  on  the  vicissitudes  of  the  coffee 
and  rubber  markets,  and  this  one  was  not  completed  when 
Dom  Pedro,  Isabella  and  all  the  machinery  of  monarchy 
were  shipped  back  to  Portugal  in  1889  by  the  founders 
of  the  Brazilian  Republic.  The  effect  of  wind  and  rain 
on  this  relic  of  the  past  makes  it  look  like  the  unsightly 
wreckage  of  a fire ; it  would  certainly  be  more  seeml}^  if 
the  clerical  powers  that  be  would  only  let  Nature  mercifully 
cover  it  up,  as  she  would  swiftly  do,  with  trailing  curtains 
of  green  and  sweet-scented  blossoms.  But  the  Church 
militant  knows  its  business,  and  no  doubt  this  eyesore 
points  a useful  moral  for  the  wayfarer  and  the  scoffer. 
Certainly  many  things  were  done  better  in  the  days  of 
genial  Dom  Pedro  than  they  are  under  the  praetorian 
methods  of  the  Republic. 

Three  things  linger  gratefully  in  my  memories  of 
Petropolis.  One  is  the  vision  of  a hmnming-bird,  a 
flashing  jewel  of  bronze  and  blue  and  green,  harvesting 
honey  from  a fuchsia  tree  in  the  shade  of  a terraced  garden. 
The  second  was  the  delectable  discovery  of  a certain 
cream  cheese,  made  by  Swiss  and  German  settlers.  Eaten 
with  quajava  from  Pernambuco,  ’tis  a food  for  the  gods, 
a very  dream  cheese,  in  itself  well  worth  a month’s  journey. 
The  third  was  a visit  to  the  home  of  Senhor  Carlo  Rod- 
rigues, formerly  editor  and  owner  of  Rio’s  most  notable 
newspaper,  the  Jornal  de  Comercio.  A brisk  young  fellow 
of  seventy-two,  Senhor  Rodrigues;  after  an  eventful  and 
successful  career,  he  has  given  up  journalism  and  retired 
to  the  shade  of  bamboos  and  bananas  to  write  his  opus, 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


59 


a work  on  the  origins  of  the  Christian  religion.  Indis- 
putably one  of  the  makers  and  master  minds  of  modern 
Brazil,  the  influence  which  Rodrigues  has  exercised  over 
his  countrymen  has  been  greater  than  that  of  any  of  his 
political  contemporaries ; it  only  shows  what  conscientious 
and  consistent  journalism  may  achieve,  even  in  a land 
where  yellow  is  the  popular  colour.  The  building  up  of 
the  Jornal  to  the  height  of  dignity  which  it  attained  was 
all  his  own  doing ; he  made  it  a first-class  newspaper  and 
educated  his  public  to  appreciate  it.  He  took  The  Times 
of  Delane  and  Buckle  as  his  model,  and  firmly  refused  to 
conform  to  twentieth-century  ideals  of  commercial  journal- 
ism ; it  was  his  boast,  for  example,  that  he  never  allowed 
advertisements  to  appear  on  the  same  page  as  reading- 
matter.  Discussing  the  effect  of  the  war  upon  Brazil 
and  the  financial  outlook  of  the  Republic,  he  was  distinctly 
pessimistic,  holding  the  view  (not  uncommon  nowadays) 
that  wise  government  is  not  to  be  expected  of  the  type  of 
professional  politician  produced  by  modern  democracy. 
His  conversation  and  views  on  life  reminded  me  forcibly 
of  those  of  Juan  Franco,  the  Portuguese  dictator,  when 
in  exile  at  Biarritz,  looking  down  from  contemplative 
heights  of  detachment  on  the  noisy  arena  he  had  left. 
Rodrigues  was  something  of  a shock  to  one’s  preconceived 
conclusions  about  Brazil  and  the  Brazilians;  and  Petro- 
polis  was  somehow  the  last  place  in  the  world  where  one 
would  expect  to  find  a philosopher. 


CHAPTER  IV 


POLITICS  EN  PASSANT 

In  March  1916  there  was  a great  sending  of  prominent 
citizens  from  the  United  States,  headed  by  Mr.  Secretary 
McAdoo,  in  connection  with  the  Pan-American  Conference 
at  Buenos  Aires.  Looking  back  on  the  political  opinions 
expressed  by  these  delegates  of  the  Great  Republic  in 
Rio  on  that  occasion,  and  later  in  the  Argentine,  what  a 
distance  we  have  travelled  ! In  those  days,  if  the  truth 
must  be  told,  the  relations  between  Englishmen  and 
Americans  in  most  of  the  leading  Republics  were  not 
enthusiastically  cordial.  At  Rio  there  never  had  been 
much  intimacy,  partly  because  of  trade  rivalry,  but  more, 
I think,  because  the  two  eommunities,  generally  speaking, 
reside  in  different  sections  of  the  cit}^  and  because  the 
climate  does  not  lend  itself  to  the  pursuit  of  those  outdoor 
sports  in  whieh  Anglo-Saxons  rub  off  each  other’s  angles. 
At  the  Club  Central  the  race  line  was  drawn  clearly  enough 
for  even  a stranger  to  notice  it — there  were  still  English 
tables  and  American  tables,  even  after  the  Germans’ 
places  knew  them  no  more.  After  the  sinking  of  the 
Lusitania  there  was  an  unmistakable  feeling  of  restraint, 
a discreet  avoidance  of  politics,  on  both  sides.  Every 
American  there,  having  travelled  and  understanding  some- 
thing of  world  politics,  resented  the  idea  of  being  included 
in  the  “ too  proud  to  fight  ” category;  they  knew  that 
sooner  or  later  Old  Glory  must  come  in  against  the  Hun, 
but  they  chafed  at  the  delay  involved  in  the  President’s 
process  of  educating  the  nation  to  abandon  its  long- 

60 


MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS  61 

cherished  ideals  of  pacifism.  The  futility  of  each  succes- 
sive Presidential  Note  to  Berlin  made  the  American 
colonies  in  South  America  more  and  more  restive;  but 
their  chagrin  was  not  a matter  to  be  relieved  by  sympa- 
thetic discussion 'of  the  situation  with  such  Englishmen 
as  the  war  had  left  there. 

At  the  reception  given  to  Mr.  Secretary  McAdoo  at 
the  U.S.  Embassy  in  Rio  by  the  American  Chamber  of 
Commerce,  one  could  feel,  despite  the  music  and  the 
flowers  and  pretty  speeches,  something  of  the  fierce  under- 
currents that  ran  beneath  the  pohshed  surface  of 
diplomatic  and  official  ceremony.  All  the  official  world 
and  his  wife  were  there,  besides  a good  many  of  the  poly- 
glot peripatetic  kind  of  people,  journalists,  financiers  and 
what-not,  that  seem  to  crop  up  wherever  there  is  anything 
doing,  and,  of  course,  the  usual  sprinkling  of  artistic 
butterflies  and  birds  of  paradise.  Such  talk  as  was 
meant  to  be  overheard  was  carefully  confined  to  safe 
subjects,  such  as  the  weather,  the  Carnival  festivities  (twice 
postponed  by  rain)  and  the  Pan-American  programme; 
but  the  shadow  of  the  war  was  upon  us,  for  all  our  pious 
platitudes.  It  was  all  very  well  to  talk  of  benevolent 
neutrality ; every  Anglo-Saxon  there  (including  Mr. 
McAdoo),  every  Latin  and  nearly  every  Brazihan  (not 
including  Senhor  Lauro  Muller),  could  not  but  feel  that 
the  presence  of  Germans  on  such  an  occasion  was  unseemly, 
not  to  say  offensive.  It  seemed  a monstrous  thing  that 
by  any  shibboleth  of  convention  of  civilisation  Germans 
should  be  received  on  a footing  of  equality  and  as  decent 
members  of  society,  while  yet  the  ravaged  cities  of  Belgium 
and  northern  France  cried  to  heaven  for  vengeance  on 
their  unspeakable  barbarism.  Every  decent  man  felt 
that  there  must  be  something  rotten  in  a system  of 
manners  and  morals  which  at  a time  like  this  not  only 


62  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  :\IORALS 

tolerated  their  presence,  but  invited  them  to  drink  to 
the  health  of  an  American  envoy  in  the  company  of 
Englishmen,  Belgians  and  Frenchmen.  Setting  aside 
their  record  of  crime  in  Europe,  every  man  there  knew 
that  the  German  Legations  in  South  America  were  deliber- 
ately violating  every  obhgation  of  neutrahty  and  abusing 
the  hospitahty  accorded  them,  plotting  murder  on  the 
high  seas  and  stirring  up  sedition  and  strife  all  over  the 
continent.  Even  the  average  Brazilian  had  come  to 
regard  the  diplomatic  exponents  of  Kultur  as  calculating 
Calibans  and  pariahs : yet  here  they  were,  smirking,  and 
clicking  their  heels  under  the  hospitable  folds  of  Old 
Glory  ! No  doubt  it  had  to  be,  but  it  made  a good  many 
of  us  sick;  diplomacy,  even  neutral  diplomacy,  was  for 
once  quite  obviously  uncomfortable.  As  for  me,  I looked 
out  across  the  bay,  where  the  heavy  clouds  were  shedding 
themselves  in  torrential  rain,  and  drank  to  " the  day  ” 
— the  day  of  Germany’s  expiation.  And  I offered  up  a 
little  special  prayer  that  wisdom  may  hereafter  be  vouch- 
safed to  us  to  abandon  the  outworn  creed  of  diplomacy 
which  entrusts  the  discussion  of  international  affairs  to 
well-bred  marionettes  trained  in  the  arts  of  polite  men- 
dacity and  chicane;  that  grace  may  be  given  us  to  for- 
sake the  shibboleths  of  subterfuge  and  flapdoodle,  whereby 
until  now  we  have  sought  to  maintain  the  British  birth- 
right in  foreign  lands.  Surely  no  self-respecting  English 
or  American  diplomat  will  ever  again  regard  it  as  part  of 
his  duty  to  ask  an  unrepentant  German  to  dinner,  at  least 
in  the  lifetime  of  the  present  generation  ? 

There  was  a good  deal  of  talk  about  the  Monroe  doctrine 
at  this  reception  to  Mr.  McAdoo,  and  later,  in  Buenos 
Aires,  a good  deal  about  the  “ European  system  ” and 
Pan-American  ideals,  but  somehow  all  these  things  seemed 
to  have  lost  their  vital  essence  in  a world  confronted  by 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


63 


the  reality  of  brute  force.  Senator  Root  had  not  then 
stated  the  self-evident  truth,  that  old  Monroe’s  doctrine 
had  hitherto  been  maintained  by  an  even  balance  of  power 
in  Europe  and  by  the  supremacy  of  the  British  fleet,  but 
the  fact  was  instinctively  recognised  none  the  less. 
Americans  had  come  to  perceive  that  if  all  the  collective 
pledges  given  by  the  civihsed  Powers  at  the  Hague  had 
been  ruthlessly  swept  aside  by  the  Prussians,  there  was 
no  longer  any  safety  for  North  or  South  America  in  a 
declaration  of  continental  isolation,  which  had  never  even 
attained  to  any  recognised  force  as  international  law. 
Here  in  Rio  there  was  evidence  and  to  spare  that  the 
famous  doctrine  was  played  out,  as  Admiral  Mahan  had 
foretold  it  would  be ; every  one  concerned  was  now  fully 
alive  to  the  fact  that  if  Germany  emerged  triumphant 
from  the  war,  nothing  but  ships  and  guns  could  prevent 
her  from  invading  and  annexing  territory  on  the  American 
continent,  and  imposing  her  own  trade  conditions  for  the 
future.  Mr.  President  Wilson’s  latest  message  to  Con- 
gress, reiterating  his  faith  in  “ the  rights  of  the  American 
republics  to  work  out  their  own  destinies  without  inter- 
ference,” and  his  new  dream  of  a League  to  Enforce  Peace, 
served  as  texts  for  many  eloquent  orations,  but  behind 
them,  more  substantial  and  convincing,  were  the  visions 
and  voices  from  ravaged  Belgium  and  Serbia.  No 
panoply  of  sounding  phrases  could  henceforth  guard  any 
nation  against  unprovoked  aggression,  that  much  was 
clear;  and  for  those  who  could  read  the  writings  on  the 
wall  at  these  gatherings  of  neutrals,  it  was  also  clear  that 
America,  for  the  sake  of  her  ideals  and  as  a matter  of  self- 
preservation,  could  not  afford  to  stand  aloof  much  longer. 
If  it  had  not  been  for  the  insidious  influences  brought  to 
bear  by  German  political  finance  on  individuals  and 
groups  of  politicians  in  the  Argentine,  Chile  and  Brazil, 


64  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


and  also  for  the  pro-German  activities  of  the  Roman 
Catholic  clergy,  the  unmistakable  sympathies  of  the  masses 
in  South  America  for  the  Allies  would  have  been  declared 
much  sooner  than  they  were ; as  it  was,  the  inarticulate 
public  could  only  relieve  its  feelings  by  processions  and 
the  breaking  of  German  windows. 

Amongst  those  who  professed  to  hope  and  believe  that 
the  shadow  of  Monroe  might  still  serve  some  useful  pur- 
pose in  daj's  to  come,  it  was  quite  evident,  even  before 
Mr.  Roosevelt’s  olive-branch  tour  of  the  South  in  1913, 
that  Brazil,  Argentina  and  Chile  were  no  longer  prepared 
to  accept  the  doctrine,  unless  they  were  admitted  by  the 
United  States  to  full  equality  in  the  matter  of  policing 
and  protecting  the  continent.  The  ABC  Republics  had 
become  very  restive,  long  before  the  war,  because  of 
Washington’s  assumption  of  a censorship  of  morals  and 
manners  over  the  southern  continent.  Their  dignity  as 
sovereign  States  was  offended  at  the  idea  of  any  such 
protectorate;  so  much  so,  indeed,  that  the  activities  of 
Mr.  John  Barrett  and  the  international  idealism  of  the 
Pan-American  Bureau,  had  become  matter  for  derision 
and  even  for  suspicion,  in  more  than  one  southern  capital. 
South  America  expected  the  United  States  to  act  up  to 
its  motto  “ E pluribus  Unum  ” ; furthermore,  the  leading 
Republics  evidently  intended  to  insist  on  their  right  to 
reject  any  kind  of  “ Monroismo,”  or  Pan- Americanism, 
which  might  hereafter  interfere  with  their  independent 
relations  with  European  countries,  either  in  finance  or 
pohtics.  All  these  things  were  in  the  air,  vague  yet  per- 
ceptible, when  North  and  South  America  came  to  take 
counsel  together  as  neutrals,  and  when  the  Northern 
Republic  was  at  pains  to  disavow  not  only  “ the  vague 
and  barren  responsibilities  ” of  the  Monroe  doctrine,  but 
the  idea  of  northern  predominance.  The  shadow  of 


A TURCO  PEDLAR 


A HAWKER  OF  BRUSHES  AND 
BROOMS,  RIO 


RUFFO,  THE  SHEEP-SHEARER 


A PEDLAR  OF  TIN 
IRON  WARE 


[To  face  p.  64. 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


65 


coming  events  was  clearly  marked,  for  those  who  cared 
to  see : the  Monroe  doctrine  was  clearly  doomed  to  ex- 
tinction, relegated  to  the  limbo  of  creeds  outworn.  In 
the  struggle  of  civilisation  against  Prussiandom,  Pan- 
Americanism  was  bound  to  include  Great  Britain  and 
South  America,  to  identify  itself  with  the  cause  of  Italy, 
Portugal,  England  and  France.  The  moral,  intellectual 
and  economic  ties  that  bound  the  New  World  to  the  Old 
were  not  to  be  weakened,  but  greatly  strengthened,  as 
the  result  of  the  war.  Later  on,  when  the  infamies  of 
Luxburg  and  his  hirelings  had  been  fully  revealed,  and 
when  Brazil  had  followed  the  example  of  the  United 
States  in  declaring  war  upon  the  Hun,  the  sympathies  of 
the  Latin  republics  were  expressed  in  a manner  which 
showed  how  deep  and  widespread  is  the  affection  of  this 
people  for  France,  the  spiritual  home  of  their  civihsa- 
tion.  Even  in  the  Argentine  and  Chile,  where  German 
money  and  German  threats  retained  their  hold  upon 
venal  and  timorous  officialdom,  it  was  manifest  that 
loathing  for  the  Prussian  and  all  his  ways  had  become  a 
force  to  be  reckoned  with,  something  that  will  cost  Ger- 
many dear  in  the  days  to  come.  To  have  incurred  the 
hatred  and  contempt  of  the  young  and  vigorous  nations 
of  the  New  World,  of  those  upon  whom  Germany  must 
rely  for  most  of  the  raw  materials  she  needs,  this  is  one 
of  the  triumphs  which  von  Tirpitz  and  his  Junkers  failed 
to  foresee  when  they  decided  to  violate  all  the  recognised 
rules  of  civilised  warfare. 

It  was  no  small  joy  for  one  wandering  Briton  to  reaUse 
these  things,  to  perceive  men  and  events  shaping  them- 
selves slowly  but  surely  for  the  final  discomfiture  of  the 
common  enemy  in  this  gathering  of  neutrals,  cautiously 
polite.  In  the  same  way,  four  months  later,  at  the 

celebration  of  the  Argentine  Republic’s  centenary  at 
F 


66  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  INIORALS 


Buenos  Aires,  it  was  with  no  small  satisfaction  that  I 
found  on  all  sides  evidence  of  the  fact  that  the  pro-German 
pohcy  of  President  Irigoyen  and  his  political  henchmen 
was  in  no  sense  representative  of  the  sentiments  of  the 
Argentine  people,  or  even  of  a majority  in  Congress. 
There  is,  no  doubt,  a section  of  the  mercantile  community 
in  the  Argentine  (just  as  there  is,  alas,  in  England)  whose 
private  interests  are  bound  up  with  maintenance  of  their 
trade  relations  with  Germany;  there  are  the  German 
training  and  traditions  of  the  army ; there  are  a number 
of  hybrid  cosmopohtans  and  a group  of  disloyal  Irish, 
whose  wealth  gives  them  a certain  influence  in  pohtics, 
and  there  is  always,  as  a dominant  factor  in  international 
affairs,  the  jealous  rivalry  of  the  Argentine  with  Brazil 
for  predominance  and  leadership  in  South  America,  and 
a chronic  tendency  to  assert  the  dignity  of  the  Republic 
by  snubbing  the  United  States;  but  all  these  influences 
combined  were  unable  to  check  the  increasing  manifesta- 
tion of  strong  anti-German  feelings  throughout  the 
country.  Every  addition  to  the  list  of  outrages  com- 
mitted by  German  submarines  and  aircraft  against  non- 
combatants  served,  here  as  elsewhere,  to  stimulate  the 
Hymn  of  Hate,  the  rmiversal  song  without  words,  which 
Kultur  has  inspired  from  China  to  Peru. 

There  were  no  German  or  Austrian  flags  to  be  seen  in 
the  streets  of  Buenos  Aires  during  the  Centenary  festivi- 
ties in  July  1916.  On  the  other  hand,  there  were  enthu- 
siastic demonstrations  of  popular  sympathy  with  the 
cause  of  the  Allies,  so  much  so  that  many  worthy  neutrals 
(possibly  in  anticipation  of  the  Black  List)  were  going 
out  of  their  way  at  this  time  to  assure  the  British  and 
French  ^linisters  that  they  had  never  had  any  German 
connections.  The  number  of  our  Dutch,  Swedish  and 
Swiss  friends  was  far  greater,  it  seemed,  than  anybody 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


67 


would  ever  have  believed  before  the  successes  of  the 
Anglo-French  offensive  in  Flanders.  The  President,  it 
is  true,  supported  by  the  German  subsidised  section  of 
the  Press,  persisted  in  his  pohcy  of  benevolent  neutrahty, 
but  it  was  clear  that  in  so  doing  he  was  ignoring  and  irritat- 
ing public  opinion  and  sowing  poisonous  seeds  of  internal 
discord,  from  which  he  and  his  friends  will  eventually 
reap  a harvest  of  severe  retribution. 

But  enough  of  these  things.  Let  us  leave  the  tangled 
undergrowth  of  politics,  let  us  cease  from  pursuing  the 
poisonous  track  of  the  Prussian,  and  get  back  to  the  fresh 
air  of  the  open  road. 


CHAPTER  V 


IN  AND  ABOUT  SAO  PAULO 

There  is  no  subject  more  interesting  in  Brazil  than  that 
of  the  evolution  of  the  race  under  the  combined  influences 
of  climate,  immigration  and  the  fusion  of  many  stocks. 
Men  who  have  studied  these  things  foresee  that  before 
long  the  result  of  the  tide  of  emigration  that  has  flowed 
into  the  southern  and  temperate  States  from  Europe — 
chiefly  from  Italy — for  the  last  hundred  years  will 
eventually  produce  two  different  types  of  humanity 
and  civilisation  in  Brazil,  that  of  the  north  remaining 
dominated  by  the  negro  strain.  There  is  no  doubt  that 
in  the  south  the  negro  is  destined  to  disappear,  gradually 
eliminated  and  absorbed  by  process  of  intermarriage  into 
the  numerically  superior  European  stock.  Temperate 
South  America  may  thus  escape  the  racial  problem  which 
confronts  the  United  States  in  its  unassimilated  negro 
population.  Humanly  and  economically,  who  shall  say 
which  is  likely  to  produce  the  better  results,  the  Anglo- 
Saxon’s  instinctive  aversion  to  fusion  with  the  coloured 
race,  or  the  catholic  cross-breeding,  sanctioned  by  the 
creed  of  the  Conquistadores  ? 

In  the  city  of  Sao  Paulo,  only  300  miles  from  Rio,  one 
can  see  at  a glance  the  effect  of  a slight  difference  in 
climate  on  the  destinies  of  a new  people  whose  evolution 
has  been,  and  still  is,  determined  by  immigration.  The 
city  stands  at  a height  of  about  2500  feet  above  sea-level, 
on  the  fertile  tableland  of  the  Sierra  do  Mar — high  enough 

68 


MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS  69 


to  make  its  climate  healthy  and  congenial  for  an  Italian 
or  Portuguese  peasant  labouring  with  his  hands,  and 
suitable  for  the  rearing  of  his  children.  Thanks  to  that 
half-mile  of  elevation,  the  whole  atmosphere  of  this,  the 
most  beautiful  and  prosperous  city  north  of  the  Parana, 
is  entirely  different  from  that  of  Rio,  as  different  as  IVIilan 
is  from  Lisbon,  and  much  in  the  same  way.  In  the  first 
place,  the  negro  element  is  conspicuously  less ; the 
general  type  of  citizen  that  you  see  in  the  busy  streets 
and  on  the  flowery  way  of  the  Avenida  Paulista  has  in  it 
very  little  to  remind  one  of  the  old  colonial  days,  of  the 
Sao  Paulo  of  the  Mamelucos  or  even  of  the  more  recent 
Sao  Paulo,  remembered  of  many  of  its  inhabitants,  when 
the  great  coffee  estates  were  still  worked  by  slave  labour. 
Both  in  its  architecture  and  the  appearance  and  manners 
of  its  people,  the  city  gives  one  the  impression  of  modern 
Italy,  or  Basque  France,  transplanted,  rather  than  of 
predominant  Portuguese  influence;  and  as  a matter  of 
fact,  more  than  half  its  population  are  of  Italian  descent. 
Between  1830  and  1900,  over  a million  emigrants  came 
from  Europe  to  the  State  of  Sao  Paulo,  and  of  these  700,000 
were  Itahans.  Not  all  were  settlers,  for  here,  as  in  the 
Argentine  wheat  lands,  there  has  always  been  a migratory 
tide  of  labour,  men  wEo  cross  the  Atlantic  year  after 
year  to  harvest  the  coffee  crop  and  then  return  to  their 
beloved  Italy  with  a full  purse;  but  over  250,000  have 
made  their  home  in  the  city  of  Sao  Paulo  since  1890  and, 
until  the  war,  the  cry  was  still  they  come.  Six  years 
after  the  abolition  of  slavery,  the  population  of  the  city 
was  only  40,000  ; it  is  now  close  on  half  a milhon.  Small 
wonder  that  the  negro  figures  less  and  less  in  the  Pauhsta 
crowd — for  he  has  had  no  reinforcements  from  Africa 
since  i860,  and  in  the  meanwhile  the  children  bom  of  the 
union  of  negro  women  with  whites  or  Indians  or  Mulattoes, 


70  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


gradually  merging  into  the  half-breed  stock,  assist  in  their 
turn  to  eliminate  the  black  strain. 

It  is  a far  cry  from  this  most  picturesque  and  prosperous 
city,  this  place  of  beautiful  gardens  and  well-planned 
streets,  to  the  days  when  the  fierce  half-bred  l\Iamelucos 
made  the  name  of  Paulista  a byword  and  a thing  of 
fear,  when  their  slave-hunting  handeiras  drove  the  Jesuits 
from  Parana  and  made  life  miserable  for  peaceful  men 
wherever  there  was  anything  worth  steahng,  from  the 
borders  of  Peru  and  Bolivia  to  the  mission  settlements  of 
Paraguay.  And  yet,  it  is  not  so  long  ago  that  this  cut- 
throat breed  of  Portuguese  and  Indian  blood  preyed  on 
all  productive  industry  in  this  region.  And  when  you 
think  of  the  change  which  has  been  wrought  by  ItaUan 
immigration,  the  magic  significance  and  evolutionary 
influence  of  these  little  hills  becomes  plainly  manifest. 
Were  it  not  for  them,  this  land  now  teeming  with  fruitful 
industry  would  have  remained  a black  or  brown  belt, 
the  haunt  of  malaria  and  marauders.  Further  south,  in 
Rio  Grande  do  Sul  and  Santa  Catharina,  prosperity  and 
progress  have  similarly  come  within  the  great  colonies  of 
German  and  Polish  settlers;  but  whereas  the  majority 
of  Italians  have  become  loyal  citizens  of  the  Brazilian 
Repubhc,  the  Germans  have  remained  contemptuously 
aloof,  unassimilated  aliens,  a menace  to  the  State.  All 
this  region  is  evidently  destined  to  become  a teeming 
granar}%  a source  of  food  supply  for  the  Old  World,  a white 
man’s  country  to  be  populated  from  overstocked  and 
underfed  Europe.  A hundred  5^ears  hence,  it  is  safe  to 
say,  there  will  be  less  left  of  the  negro  strain  in  the 
Brazilians  of  the  South  than  in  the  Portuguese  race  itself. 
Here  you  have  mankind  in  the  making,  a new  race  in 
its  childhood,  full  of  promise  for  the  future.  Brazil  has 
many  storms  to  weather,  many  sins  of  the  fathers  to  be 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


71 


expiated  by  the  children,  but  the  wealth  of  the  land  is 
all  undeveloped  and  the  rising  generation  are  rapidly 
learning  the  lesson  of  good  citizenship.  Also  the  war 
has  taught  them  to  see  what  opportunities  are  theirs  in 
a land  whose  vast  resources  have  as  yet  been  scarcely 
touched  by  commercial  enterprise. 

In  political  ideals,  in  civic  administration  and  in  its 
social  institutions,  the  hfe  of  Sao  Paulo  reflects  the  gradual 
fusion  of  the  new  and  virile  Itahan  Latinity  with  the 
adulterated  Latinity  of  the  old  Brazilian  stock.  From 
these  two  sources  the  city  derives  its  intellectual  and 
political  activities;  from  them  are  drawn  its  lawgivers 
and  the  upholders  of  its  social  code  of  manners  and  morals. 
The  swift  moods  and  passions,  the  fatal  instability  that 
characterise  elsewhere  in  Brazil  (as  in  Portugal)  the 
mixed  race  of  Iberian,  Indian  and  African  descent,  with 
all  the  marks  left  upon  it  by  Moorish  domination,  are 
being  steadil}^  tempered  and  subdued  to  the  intelligent 
vivacity  and  practical  common  sense  of  the  Italian.  These, 
being  by  nature  adaptable,  conform  easily  to  Brazilian 
ways  in  many  things,  and  marry  freely  into  Brazilian 
families.  This  very  adaptabihty  goes  far  to  explain  the 
influence  of  their  ideas  and  activities.  No  doubt  that  in 
time  the  Italian  immigrant  loses  something  of  his  birth- 
right and  is  in  subtle  ways  influenced  by  the  tutelary 
spirits  of  his  new  home.  One  notices,  both  in  pohtics  and 
in  the  social  code,  recognition  of  the  maxim  that  in  Rome 
one  must  do  as  the  Romans  do ; there  may  be  a certain 
relaxation  of  moral  fibre  (probably  climatic),  an  aggrava- 
tion of  the  Neapolitan  tendency  to  oratorical  heroics  and 
inflated  rhetoric,  and  an  exaggeration  of  Latin  idealism 
and  of  faith  in  the  virtue  of  political  dogmas.  But  the 
net  result,  beyond  all  doubt,  is  a very  satisfactory  balance 
of  healthy  activities,  physical  and  mental. 


72  ]\IEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


The  social  code,  and  particularly  the  unwritten  but 
drastic  laws  that  govern  the  relations  of  the  sexes,  are 
apparently  much  the  same  in  Sao  Paulo  as  they  are  in 
other  cities  of  South  America ; new  blood  and  new  ideas 
from  overseas  seem  to  modify  them  but  little.  To  the 
stranger  at  first  sight  there  is  something  strange  in  the 
persistence,  in  these  highly  cultured  and  mentally  pro- 
gressive communities,  of  traditions  and  customs  clearly 
traceable  to  the  domination  of  the  Moors  and  the  influences 
of  the  Semitic  East  in  the  Iberian  peninsula;  something 
almost  mediaeval  in  the  passive  semi-oriental  attitude 
of  women  and  the  undisguised  prevalence  of  irregular 
polygamy  amongst  men.  But  gradually  one  comes  to 
perceive  that  a system  which  seems  monstrous  in  temperate 
Argentina  and  Uruguay  may  be  defensible  in  subtropical 
Brazil;  that  the  code,  which  thus  confines  respectable 
women  within  narrow  limits  of  duty  and  decorum,  has 
grown  out  and  because  of  the  conditions  of  life  in  a land 
where  fierce  hot-blooded  passions  lie  very  close  to  the 
surface  and  where  for  centuries  slavery  and  subject  races 
facilitated  the  polygamous  instinct  in  man.  It  is  a code, 
like  most  others  of  its  kind,  designed  to  protect  the  family 
as  the  basis  of  ordered  society  and  woman  against  the 
dangers  prevailing  in  that  society.  Its  laws  are  rigidly 
enforced  by  public  opinion,  which  is  partly  an  inlieritance 
from  the  teaching  of  the  Jesuits,  but  even  more  the  result 
of  the  instinctive  conservatism  and  caution  of  the  women 
themselves.  If  they  appear  to  hug  their  chains,  it  is 
evidently  because  they  realise  that  freedom  of  social 
intercourse  with  the  average  Brazilian,  in  his  present 
state  of  evolution,  would  mean  chaos.  As  things  are,  the 
relations  of  Brazilian  women  of  the  educated  classes  with 
men  are  practically  confined  to  their  own  family  circle. 
Every  girl  of  good  family  is  educated  to  the  idea  that  her 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


73 


future  life  belongs  entirely  to  her  husband  and  children. 
For  the  rest,  she  is  expected  to  practise  prudent  circum- 
spection in  following  the  example  of  Caesar’s  wife,  lest  the 
heathen,  quick  of  ear  and  glib  of  tongue,  find  cause  to 
blaspheme.  As  the  French  wife  of  a wealthy  Brazihan 
tersely  put  it:  “ II  faut  beaucoup  de  tenue”  Under  such 
conditions,  human  intercourse  is  naturally  restricted  and 
displays  but  little  intellectual  activity  and  few  social 
amenities.  Social  functions,  public  and  private,  exist 
chiefly  under  the  direction  and  for  the  purposes  of  mothers 
with  marriageable  daughters ; and  their  attitude  towards 
the  male  sex  is  one  of  artful  encouragement  tempered 
with  unsleeping  vigilance.  Of  this  matter,  and  of  the 
many  curious  results  of  the  segregation  of  the  sexes  in 
South  America,  I purpose  to  say  more  hereafter.  In  Sao 
Paulo,  one  of  its  consequences  is  conspicuous  in  the 
frankly  bored  attitude  of  the  younger  men,  especially 
those  of  the  wealthier  class,  who  have  travelled  in  Europe. 
For  them,  outside  the  family  circle,  there  are  but  few 
social  distractions,  and  the  only  women  they  have  any 
chance  of  meeting  unchaperoned  are  the  demi-mondaines 
of  the  “ Etoile  de  Montmartre,”  of  the  Parisian  cabarets 
and  pensions  d’artistes — observe  the  euphemism — which 
flourish  exceedingly  in  all  these  parts.  For  the  young 
blood  there  is  no  respectable  half-way  house  between  the 
wilderness  of  wild  oats  and  the  enclosed  garden  of  matri- 
mony, no  sports  or  public  amusements  in  which  young 
men  and  women  can  meet  on  frank  terms  of  friendship. 
There  are  dances,  of  course,  and  bazaars  and  the  theatre, 
but  at  all  of  these  the  unmarried  girl  is  protected  by 
barbed  wires  of  vigilance  from  the  wolves  in  sheep’s 
clothing.  At  a ball  there  are  no  cosy  corners,  no  facilities 
for  flirtation;  the  young  woman  must  treat  her  partner 
with  austere  ceremony  and  after  every  dance  go  straight- 


74  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

way  back  to  mother.  Married  women  should  not  dance — 
ce  nest  pas  Men  vu — nor  may  they  with  impunity  be  seen 
talking  to  a male  acquaintance  in  the  street  or  driving  by 
themselves  in  an  open  carriage.  The  virtue  of  a married 
woman  is  a matter  so  closely  touching  the  honour  of  her 
lord,  according  to  the  hidalgo  tradition,  that  she  must 
needs  walk  circiimspectly  all  the  days  of  her  life  if  she 
would  avoid  poisonous  tongues  of  scandal.  But  a married 
man  may,  and  does,  keep  a mistress  openly,  and  lose 
little  or  nothing  in  pubhc  esteem.  He  may  not  flaunt  his 
liaisons  quite  so  unblushingly  in  Sao  Paulo  as  in  Rio,  but 
Senhora  Grundy  know’s  all  about  his  peccadilloes  and 
calmly  winks  the  other  eye.  There  are  Brazilians  of  the 
old  school,  who  preserve  dignified  traditions  of  sincerity 
and  loyalty  in  the  married  state,  but  with  the  nouvelle 
couche,  man’s  attitude  towards  woman  is  a mixture  of 
proprietary  rights  and  polygamous  activities.  Socially 
and  sexually  he  passes  through  three  phases : a spring- 
time of  riotous  dalliance  with  the  daughter  of  the  horse- 
leech ; a sober  summer  of  matrimony  and  paternity ; and 
an  autumn  of  wild  oats  brought  under  careful  cultivation. 
Physically,  the  native-born  Brazihan,  like  other  descend- 
ants of  the  Spaniards  and  Guarany  Indians  further 
south,  is  generally  picturesque  and  graceful;  mentally, 
he  is  romantic,  impulsive  and  undisciplined ; add  to  these 
qualities  a strong  philoprogenitive  instinct  and  luxurious 
proclivities,  and  you  begin  to  realise  why  the  social  code 
is  what  it  is. 

Things  being  as  they  are,  your  young  Brazilian  blade, 
his  appetite  for  romantic  adventures  frequently  stimulated 
by  yellow-back  novels,  is  apt  to  denounce  the  rigid  restric- 
tions of  the  code  which  encompasses  him,  and  to  sigh 
loudly  for  the  superior  civilisation  of  New  York,  London 
and  Paris.  The  vision  is  ever  before  his  eyes  of  lands  in 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


75 


which  a man  may  take  a young  woman  for  a walk  or  a 
meal  without  being  expected  to  marry  her  next  day; 
where  it  is  lawful  for  one,  whether  contemplating  matri- 
mony or  not,  to  talk  to  the  object  of  his  affections  without 
the  assistance  of  third  parties.  He  fails  to  make  allowance 
for  the  facts  which  compel  Brazilian  mothers  to  be  so 
careful,  and  is  apt  to  wax  very  indignant  on  this  subject. 
Pending  the  conversion  of  those  who  make  and  maintain 
the  existing  social  code,  however,  he  consoles  himself  taut 
hien  que  mal.  In  piping  times  of  peace,  for  those  who  can 
afford  it,  there  is  always  the  prospect  of  a trip  to  Europe, 
and  when  Mahomed  cannot  go  to  the  mountain,  fragments 
of  the  mountain  detach  themselves,  for  purposes  of  profit, 
and  migrate  cheerfully  to  South  America ; opera  troupes, 
light  comedy  companies  and  variety  artistes,  not  to 
mention  petites  mattresses  and  grand.es  cocoties  of  migratory 
instincts.  And  behind  these,  less  conspicuous  but  ubi- 
quitous, is  the  White  Slave  traffic,  which  grows  with 
the  wealth  of  these  South  American  communities.  The 
rigorous  seclusion  of  women,  alluring,  provocative  but 
inaccessible,  in  communities  where  polygamous  instincts 
are  undeniably  strong,  has  got  to  be  paid  for,  in  one  way 
or  another.  The  ancient  and  permanent  social  code  of 
the  Orient  has  solved  the  problem  by  frank  acceptance  of 
youthful  marriage  and  polygamy  as  recognised  institutions, 
based  on  the  patriarchal  family  system;  by  so  doing,  it 
has  escaped  the  network  of  intrigue  and  artificial  con- 
ventions, the  evils  of  prostitution  and  illicit  relations, 
which  the  European  system  has  incurred.  On  the  other 
hand,  it  pays  the  penalty  for  its  social  code  in  a birth-rate 
that  vastly  exceeds  all  possible  means  of  subsistence,  and 
in  a struggle  for  survival  far  more  severe  than  anything 
known  in  other  parts  of  the  world.  A choice  of  evils,  you 
may  say,  arising  like  so  many  others  out  of  the  eternal 


76  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


conflict  of  human  nature  with  its  material  environment 
and  moral  aspirations,  only  to  be  solved  by  long  processes 
of  education  and  by  the  elevation  of  the  masses.  No 
doubt;  and  possibly  in  course  of  time  even  the  New 
World  may  come  to  follow  the  road  to  the  millennium  of 
morality,  as  laid  down  by  Bernard  Shaw,  Mrs.  Sidney 
Webb  and  women  legislators  in  England  and  the  United 
States.  But  judging  by  the  actual  state  of  public  and 
private  opinion  prevailing  on  the  subject  throughout 
Latin  America,  the  emancipation  of  woman  in  that  region 
at  all  events  lies  in  the  dim  and  very  distant  future. 

Of  its  public  institutions,  education  and  administration, 
Sao  Paulo  has  every  reason  to  be  proud.  The  Avenida 
Paulista,  with  its  magnificent  gardens  adorning  the 
palatial  homes  of  coffee  kings,  bureaucrats  and  captains 
of  industry,  is  an  object-lesson  in  the  art  of  making  a city 
beautiful.  The  Theatre  Municipal  is  a stately  dignified 
building,  besides  being  an  active  centre  of  social  and  civic 
life.  (It  contains  even  a public  bar,  where  good  music 
is  performed,  which  from  midnight  till  1.30  a.m.  attracts 
a mixed,  unconventional,  but  very  orderly  crowd  of 
viveurs  and  demi-mondaines.)  The  streets,  especially  in 
the  fashionable  suburbs,  are  nobly  planned,  and  lined 
with  goodly  trees.  Particularly  pleasing  and  effective 
is  the  general  scheme  of  metal  work,  designed  and  made 
in  the  local  technical  schools  and  workshops,  for  the 
decoration  of  lamps,  doors,  railings  and  balconies;  light, 
graceful  work  pleasantly  reminiscent  of  Italy  and  Spain, 
yet  with  a distinctive  note  of  its  own.  The  general 
standard  of  technical  and  professional  knowledge  is  high, 
as  indeed  it  is  in  other  centres  of  learning  throughout 
South  America,  for  the  State  believes  in  the  benefits  of 
education  and  supplies  it  practically  free  (50  milreis  a year 
is  the  fee  for  a college  student — say  £2  los.).  It  costs 


A PICNIC  IN  THE  WOODS 


[To  face  p.  76. 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


77 


the  community  something  considerable  for  every  doctor, 
engineer  and  lawyer  that  it  turns  out,  but  except  perhaps 
in  the  case  of  lawyers  (addicted  here  as  elsewhere  to 
pohtics)  the  expenditure  seems  to  be  justified  by  results. 
The  medical  profession,  in  particular,  has  attained  a 
remarkably  high  pitch  of  progressive  efficiency ; the 
pubhc  health  of  Sao  Paulo  is  distinctly  satisfactory. 

A very  interesting  example  and  achievement  of  medical 
science  at  Sao  Paulo  is  the  Institute  at  Butantan,  where 
since  1901  serum  has  been  made  for  protection  against 
snake-bite,  bubonic  plague  and  other  calamitous  diseases. 
Snakes,  poisonous  and  harmless,  are  the  chief  business  of 
this  remarkable  establishment,  under  the  direction  of  Dr. 
Vital  Brazil,  a man  whose  name  is  blessed  wherever  rattle- 
snakes, adders  and  vipers  lie  in  wait  for  bare-legged  man. 
The  Institute  makes  three  kinds  of  snake  serum,  for  use 
respectively  against  the  bites  of  Crotalus  terrificus,  the 
nine  species  of  Lachesis,  and  venomous  species  in  general ; 
it  keeps  for  the  purpose  a model  snake-farm,  where 
hundreds  of  these  deadly  beasts,  collected  from  aU  over 
the  country,  he  basking  in  their  own  snug  place  in  the  sun, 
or  bathing  in  the  moat — a spot  which,  from  a distance, 
looks  uncommonly  hke  one  of  the  horseshoe  graveyards 
of  Southern  China,  with  its  trees,  tunnel  and  circular  wall 
of  concrete.  Here  the  snakes,  some  5000  or  6000  every 
year,  are  gently  but  firmly  dealt  with,  compelled  to 
discharge  the  contents  of  their  poison  pouches  into  re- 
ceptacles not  of  their  own  choosing.  To  see  Dr.  Vital  and 
his  men  handling  them  is  to  appreciate  the  contempt 
that  famiharity  breeds.  Their  poison,  on  its  way  to 
becoming  serum,  passes  a certain  time  in  the  veins  of 
horses  (who  seem  to  thrive  on  it)  and  is  eventually  dis- 
tributed all  over  the  continent.  On  coffee  or  sugar-cane 
plantations,  in  swampy  regions  where  men  labour  with 


78  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


their  hands,  the  efficacy  of  this  antidote  to  bites  that  were 
formerly  fatal,  has  become  so  generally  appreciated  that 
no  major-domo  is  without  his  tubes  of  serum ; by  a law  of 
the  State,  it  is  on  sale  at  every  chemist’s  and  available 
at  all  hospitals  and  health  offices.  The  need  for  a remedy 
of  some  sort  was  urgent,  for  the  Brazilian  peon,  like  his 
brother  of  Mexico,  prefers  the  risks  of  snake-bite  to  the 
wearing  of  boots.  The  most  frequent  cause  of  fatahties 
is  the  small,  comparatively  inconspicuous  and  swift- 
striking  “jararaca”  {Lachesis  lanceolatus) ; 6o  per  cent, 
of  the  casualties  are  bitten  on  the  foot  and  22  per 
cent,  on  the  hand.  Boots,  therefore,  would  save  many 
a life,  but  no  doubt  a tube  of  serum  comes  cheaper, 
and  your  Brazihan  forest  worker  is  enough  of  a fatalist 
to  say,  better  swift  Death,  if  it  must  come,  than  the 
intolerable  burden  of  putting  on  and  taking  off  one’s  boots 
every  day. 

Dr.  Vital’s  ideas  in  the  matter  of  snakes  are  not  confined 
to  providing  a remedy  against  their  bites.  He  has  a 
separate  enclosure  at  the  Institute  in  which  he  collects, 
breeds  and  observes  all  manner  of  non-poisonous  serpents, 
with  a particularly  watchful  eye  for  those  whose  tastes 
lead  them  to  slay  and  devour  their  poisonous  cousins.  Of 
these  there  are  several  hvely  species,  and  the  Institute 
makes  it  a branch  of  its  business  to  educate  fazendeiros  to 
distinguish  them,  so  that  their  beneficent  appetites  may 
be  encouraged.  Judging  by  the  general  appearance  of 
these  brutes,  however,  I should  say  that  the  average  farm 
hand  will  require  to  be  very  firmly  based  in  his  knowledge 
and  faith  before  he  desists  from  slaying  them,  especially 
as  Nature  has  compensated  them  for  their  lack  of  poison 
by  giving  them  horrid  vicious  tempers,  sinister  looks,  and 
a nasty  way  of  advancing  upon  one  open-mouthed,  with 
every  appearance  of  deadly  intent.  On  the  other  hand, 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


79 


the  poisonous  ones,  secure,  I suppose,  in  their  sense  of 
power,  are  sluggishly  disposed,  and  allow  themselves  to  be 
handled  almost  placidly.  I saw  one  small  and  com- 
paratively harmless-looking  Lachesis  allow  itself  to  be 
swallowed,  almost  amicably  and  without  protest,  by  a very 
horrid  striped  monster  of  the  innocuous  kind,  which  had 
previously  made  a vicious  attack  on  the  attendant’s  boot. 
But  it  is  not  the  exclusive  property  of  the  serpent  tribe 
to  assume  offensive  manners  for  lack  of  other  effective 
argument. 

Railway  travelUng  is  much  the  same  all  over  Brazil,  but 
the  lines  connecting  Sao  Paulo  with  the  rest  of  the  country, 
and  especially  the  fifty-mile  road  that  runs  to  the  port  of 
Santos,  are  better  laid  and  equipped  than  the  majority. 
The  Santos  line  is,  indeed,  a little  wonder  in  its  way;  it 
is  not  often  nowadays  that  a railway  has  to  spend  money 
freely  on  ultra-provident  work  of  a decorative  kind,  so  as 
to  keep  its  earnings  within  hmits  that  shall  not  provoke 
official  criticism  or  cupidity.  The  Santos  line  has  a 
monopoly  of  very  lucrative  traffic,  connecting  the  State 
capital  and  the  richest  coffee  country  in  the  world  with  its 
port  of  shipment ; it  is  therefore  wise  to  guard  it  against 
wash-outs  and  other  calamities;  an  elaborate  system  of 
surface  drainage  in  concrete  intersects  every  steep  incline 
on  the  hillside  clearings,  right  up  to  the  edge  of  the  forest, 
and  the  Company’s  rolling  stock  is  of  the  very  brightest 
and  best.  On  the  Sao  Paulo  branch  of  the  “ Central  do 
Brazil  ” (the  line  that  runs  to  Rio)  there  is  less  decorative 
activity,  but  the  service  is  good  enough  and  the  fares 
reasonable.  A first-class  ticket  for  the  309  miles  journey 
costs  32  milreis ; in  the  Pullman  it  is  50  (say  £2  los.) ; the 
trip  takes  twelve  hours,  the  going  is  fairly  comfortable, 
and  they  serve  an  excellent  lunch  en  route.  The  loco- 
motives and  observation  cars  are  North  American. 


80  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


Whenever  you  speak  of  the  United  States  in  connection 
with  Brazilian  Railways,  or  indeed  whenever  you  speak 
of  any  Brazilian  enterprises  in  which  foreign  capital  is 
concerned,  sooner  or  later  some  one  says  “ Farquhar  ” ; 
and  from  that  moment  the  conversation  leaves  the  domain 
of  commonplace  undertakings  and  soars  into  the  region  of 
Napoleonic,  not  to  say  Homeric,  speculation.  The  trail 
of  Farquhar  finance  lies  broad  across  the  South  American 
continent,  a thing  of  gorgeous  colours  and  splendid  visions. 
Like  the  dolphin  of  the  classics,  mille  trahit  moriens  adverso 
sole  colores ; compared  with  its  rainbow  hues,  ordinary 
everyday  business  seems  for  ever  flat,  stale  and  unprofit- 
able. For  reasons  already  explained,  I do  not  profess  in 
this  book  to  discuss  matters  financial  and  commercial : 
if  I speak  now  of  Mr.  Farquhar,  it  is  because  of  his  peculiar 
quality  as  a man,  because  the  ideas  which  radiated  from 
him  in  such  profusion,  whether  financially  profitable  or 
not,  have  left  their  mark  upon  the  continent.  Farquhar’s 
follies,  they  call  them  sometimes — for  example,  that 
Palace  in  the  wilderness,  the  hotel  and  gambling  casino 
at  Guaruja — but  the  impression  that  one  forms  of  his 
meteoric  career,  even  when  other  company  promoters  and 
financiers  discuss  it,  suggests  something  of  the  conquistador 
quality,  something  of  the  superman  capacity  for  seeing 
and  seizing  opportunities  which,  with  a little  luck,  makes 
a Cecil  Rhodes  or  a Pierpoint  Morgan.  The  difference 
between  a great  man  and  a little  man  is  only  a difference 
of  ideas ; between  a successful  man  and  a failure  it  is  often 
only  a matter  of  luck  in  finding  the  right  underlings  to 
carry  out  ideas.  Farquhar  in  the  end  seems  to  have 
fallen  a victim  to  his  hobby  for  collecting  railways;  as 
with  others  who  have  indulged  in  this  hobby,  it  came  to 
such  a pitch  with  him  that  if  he  found  a little  fatherless 
line,  lost  stolen  or  astray  in  the  wilderness,  he  would 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


81 


forget  everything  else,  quebracho  and  the  cattle  on  a 
thousand  hills,  to  follow  after  it.  In  the  inception  of 
brilliant  ideas  and  in  their  swift  pursuit,  he  seems  to  have 
had  many  of  the  qualities  which  go  to  the  making  of 
pushful  politicians,  of  the  Northcliffe-Churchill  type,  but 
he  lacked  continuity  of  method  and  mastery  of  detail, 
things  which  may  not  matter  so  much  in  politics,  but  are 
still  profitable  in  business. 

Another  impression  that  one  gets  from  casual  and 
disinterested  observation  of  railways  and  railway  finance 
in  Brazil — and  indeed  throughout  the  leading  Republics — 
is  that,  in  the  long  run,  the  public  of  Great  Britain  is 
likely  to  do  better  by  investing  its  surplus  cash  in  home 
industries,  or  even  by  playing  domestic  ducks-and-drakes 
with  it,  than  by  lending  it  to  South  America  to  build 
railways.  I am  aware  that  this  is  not  the  idea  which  the 
intelligent  public  has  been  led  to  hold  on  the  subject  by 
those  whose  profitable  business  it  is  to  float  foreign  loans ; 
but  observation  on  the  spot  tends  to  emphasise  the  fact 
that  the  attitude  of  any  State  (naming  no  names),  like 
that  of  the  people  behind  it,  is  not  quite  the  same  towards 
capital  when  it  wants  to  borrow,  as  it  becomes  when  it  has 
borrowed  and  has  to  pay  the  interest.  All  the  world  over, 
the  mauvais  quart  d’heure  of  borrowing  States  is  becoming 
more  and  more  frequently  accompanied  by  manifestations 
of  the  modern  syndicalist  or  Bolshevist’s  creed,  which 
denounces  the  capitalist  as  a blood-sucking  iniquity,  and 
requests  the  Government  to  tax  him  out  of  the  country, 
if  not  out  of  existence.  No  wise  Government,  no  matter 
how  repubhcan,  will  ever  quarrel  outright  with  the  money 
market ; it  will  continue  rather  to  encourage  competition 
among  lenders,  and  to  borrow  upon  terms  which  will 
enable  it  to  placate  the  proletariat  by  the  provision  of 

pickings  and  perquisites  for  place-seekers.  Brazil  is  by 
G 


82  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


no  means  the  only  country  in  which  railways  are  made  to 
serve  ends  other  than  those  of  transportation,  in  which 
they  become  prolific  milch  cows  for  the  benefit  of  pohti- 
cians  and  plurahsts;  but  no  one  who  studies  the  way  in 
which  they  are  worked  here  can  fail  to  perceive  that  the 
local  individual  with  a " pull  ” is  likely  to  get  considerably 
more  profit  out  of  them  than  the  bondholder  overseas. 
Things  have  improved,  no  doubt,  since  the  days  of  Senhor 
Frontain,  when  more  than  one  milch  cow  showed  signs  of 
impending  paralysis,  but  on  many  lines  the  system  of 
administration  seems  to  be  framed  on  the  modern  trade- 
union  principle  of  setting  three  men  to  do  one  man’s  job. 
In  a trip  between  the  little  wayside  tovm  of  Apparecida 
and  Sao  Paulo,  on  a so-called  “ express,”  which  stopped 
at  every  station,  a Brazihan  friend  and  I had  a first-class 
carriage  to  ourselves  so  far  as  passengers  were  concerned ; 
but  there  was  no  lack  of  company,  inasmuch  as  four 
employes  of  the  Company  shared  it  with  us  all  the  way, 
smoking,  eating,  sleeping  and  chatting  with  much  cheerful 
sociabihty.  One  was  the  chef  de  train,  who  slept  with  his 
feet  on  the  cushions,  a thing  which  the  conductor  had 
politely  requested  us  not  to  do.  Another  was  in  charge 
of  the  mails,  the  third  looked  after  baggage,  and  the 
fourth  punched  tickets,  when  there  w'ere  any.  A fifth 
individual,  who  tapped  the  coach  wheels  when  so  disposed, 
looked  in  for  a smoke  at  intervals.  Their  talk  was  chiefly 
of  politics  and  their  professional  prospects,  the  two  subjects 
being  evidently  interdependent.  At  every  station,  the 
number  of  gentlemen  in  uniform  was  on  the  same  lavish 
scale;  their  pay  is  generous  and  they  become  entitled  to 
pensions,  I beheve,  after  two  years’  service,  should  they 
break  down  under  the  strain  of  their  exertions.  Assuredly 
democracy  is  a goodly  spreading  tree  and  its  fruits  are 
rare  and  refreshing,  as  has  been  finely  said  by  one  who 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


83 


has  freely  watered  its  roots ; but  concern  for  the  public 
purse  is  not  one  of  them.  They  tell  me  that  there  are 
eighteen  field-marshals,  over  a hundred  generals,  and 
10,000  privates  in  the  Brazilian  Army.  For  “ privates  ” 
read  “ passengers,”  and  you  get  a fairly  correct  idea  of 
the  Brazihan  Railway  administration. 

On  the  way  from  Rio  to  Sao  Paulo,  passing  through 
the  southern  strip  of  IVIinas  Geraes,  you  notice  cattle- 
bearing tracts  of  grass  country,  scattered  amidst  the  coffee 
plantations  and  the  rice  fields ; in  the  fazendas  of  the  Sao 
Paulo  plateau  the  cattle  industry  is  rapidly  growing,  as 
the  result  of  the  war  and  of  the  interest  displayed  in  its 
possibilities  by  the  great  Chicago  packing  firms.  Even 
had  there  been  no  war  to  stimulate  the  demand,  it  is 
certain  that  the  Brazihan  herds  must  soon  have  attracted 
the  attention  of  Swift,  Armour  and  other  canning  fellows, 
for  a vast  amount  of  good  beef  had  long  been  going  to 
waste  on  the  primitive  ranches  of  the  southern  plains, 
lacking  only  freezing  plant  at  suitable  spots  to  convert 
it  into  food  for  Europe  and  wealth  for  Brazil.  Most  of 
the  new  American  meat  enterprise  is  centred  in  Rio 
Grande  do  Sul,  but  frigorificos  have  already  been  started 
in  Sao  Paulo,  and  there  are  big  things  doing  in  the  State 
of  Parana.  South  of  that  State,  where  the  night  frost 
region  begins,  the  conditions  for  cattle  ranching  are  in 
many  respects  the  same  as  those  of  Paraguay  and  Uruguay, 
over  the  border,  but  north  of  Parani  there  are  no  frosts 
to  kill  the  rich  “ fattening  grass  ” {caipim  gordurd) ; so  that 
the  pasture  value  of  the  northern  States,  and  especially  of 
Matto  Grosso,  would  seem  to  be  higher  than  that  of  the 
south,  and  the  future  of  the  great  ranching  companies 
only  a matter  of  transport  and  frigorificos.  An  amateur, 
looking  at  the  surface  of  things,  wonders  why  Chicago 
did  not  stretch  out  its  tentacles  over  these  Brazilian  herds 


84  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

long  ago.  Doubtless  the  explanation  is,  that  it  is  only 
within  the  last  ten  years  that  the  United  States  has 
become  an  importer,  as  well  as  an  exporter  of  meat; 
that,  like  England  and  for  the  same  reasons,  its  vast 
warrens  of  industrial  workers  will  in  future  have  to  be 
supplied  with  food  by  countries  that  have  a surplus  to 
dispose  of.  Be  this  as  it  may,  the  war  has  shown  Brazil 
a way  out  of  the  financial  morass  into  which  the  Govern- 
ment was  plunged  by  the  collapse  of  its  main  source  of 
revenue,  the  duty  on  rubber,  and  it  looks  as  if  the  Republic 
might  do  great  things  for  herself,  and  for  us  of  hungry 
Europe,  in  the  beef  line.  Mr.  Murdo  Mackenzie  thinks 
so,  at  all  events,  and  as  he  is  paid  £10,000  a year  to 
know  all  about  cattle,  his  opinion  is  entitled  to  respect. 
Mr.  Mackenzie  is  a braw  Scot  from  Texas,  with  a kind 
face,  an  imperturbable  calm  of  body  and  mind,  and  a firm 
faith  in  the  future  of  Brazil  in  general  and  Sao  Paulo 
in  particular.  The  Brazil  Land,  Cattle  and  Packing 
Company,  which  he  represents,  owns  a matter  of  five 
million  acres  of  land  in  Brazil  and  another  trifle  of  four 
milhons  or  so  in  Bolivia — a good  deal  more  land,  in  fact, 
than  they  could  stock,  and  some  of  it  wild  and  unworkable 
under  present  conditions.  The  American  ranchmen  who 
are  teaching  the  Brazilians  up-to-date  cattle  methods, 
believe  in  crossing  the  native  stock  of  the  country,  the 
gado  crioulo,  with  pure-bred  Herefords  or  Shorthorns,  in 
order  to  produce  the  high-class  meat  that  the  packers 
want.  The  results  obtained  at  the  experiment  fazendas 
of  Morongaba  in  Parana  and  at  Senhor  Prado’s  model 
farm,  “ San  Martino,”  in  Sao  Paulo,  have  certainly 
justified  the  introduction  of  foreign-blooded  stock;  never- 
theless, many  Brazihans  hold  that  the  thoroughbred 
native  caracu  is  likely  to  pay  better,  because  of  its 
greater  immunity  from  garapata  and  other  insect  pests. 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA  85 

to  which  the  unacclimatised  imported  beasts  often 
succumb. 

The  native  types  of  cattle,  franquerio,  curralleiro  and 
caracu,  are  the  descendants  of  animals  imported  in 
colonial  days  from  Portugal,  freely  crossed  since  then  with 
Zebu  stock  from  India.  Their  average  quality  is  generally 
higher  than  was  that  of  Argentine  native  cattle  twenty 
years  ago;  it  remains,  therefore,  to  be  proved  that  what 
the  breeder  may  gain  in  quality  of  meat  from  crossing 
with  European  thoroughbreds,  may  not  be  counter- 
balanced by  loss  of  stamina.  The  climate  and  insect 
pests  of  Brazil  are  factors  in  the  problem  not  necessarily 
to  be  solved  by  applying  the  experience  of  Texas  or 
Argentina.  It  remains  also  to  be  seen  whether  the  packing 
factories’  buying  price  for  highly  bred  cattle  will  be  so 
much  higher,  in  the  long  run,  than  what  they  pay  for 
caracu  or  other  native  stock,  that  it  will  encourage 
Brazihan  ranchmen  to  devote  time  and  money  to  ex- 
tensive breeding  experiments,  and  to  the  scientific  culture 
of  fattening  pasturage. 

Round  about  Sao  Paulo,  where  most  fazendas  have  until 
now  been  chiefly  concerned  with  dairy  farming,  very  good 
cattle  have  been  obtained  by  crossing  with  Dutch,  Flemish 
and  Jersey  strains.  But  the  thoroughbred,  hornless  and 
soft-horn  caracu  stock  is  still  in  favour  with  many  breeders. 
These  animals  are  good  milkers,  hardy  and  of  good  weight. 
At  Apparecida  do  Norte,  four  and  a half  hours  by  railway 
from  Sao  Paulo  on  the  Rio  hne,  there  is  a pasteurised 
Milk  Factory,  which  collects  milk  from  the  fazendas  of 
the  district  for  the  supply  of  the  city.  At  the  invitation 
of  their  hospitable  owners,  I spent  some  days  visiting 
two  typical  ranches  of  this  locahty,  a beautiful  country 
of  fat  pasture  land  and  semi-tropical  timber,  where  the 
bamboo,  used  for  boundary  hedges,  grows  to  a height  of 


86  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


twenty  feet,  impenetrably  close,  very  useful  and 
ornamental. 

One  of  these,  the  fazenda  San  Raphael,  lies  midway 
between  Apparecida  and  Guaratingueta,  another  station 
on  the  Central  Railway.  These  tw'o  small  towns  are 
united  by  a tram  line,  which  strikes  a stranger  as  curiously 
superfluous  when  first  he  contemplates  the  deliberate,  not 
to  say  languid,  movements  of  their  inhabitants.  Its 
explanation  lies  in  the  fact  that  Apparecida  is  a place  of 
pilgrimage,  the  shrine  of  a certain  miraculous  statue  to 
which,  on  holy  days,  the  faithful  come  from  far  and  near 
to  pray.  The  number  of  the  devout  is  not  what  it  was 
under  the  Empire,  but  the  festivals  of  the  Church  and  the 
joys  of  a bustling  pilgrimage  still  preserve  their  attractions 
in  these  rural  communities  where,  outside  of  them,  very 
little  happens.  One  is  reminded  that  the  Church  is  no 
longer  of  the  State  and  that  its  revenues  and  bequests 
have  sadly  diminished  under  the  Republic,  by  the  un- 
finished shell  of  a great  building  at  Apparecida  that  was 
to  have  been  a convent.  The  Government,  they  say, 
offered  to  take  it  over  for  use  as  a secular  school,  but  the 
Bishop  refused  to  traffic  with  the  mammon  of  unrighteous- 
ness, so  that,  failing  a spiritual  revival  of  the  kind  which 
subscribes  cash,  the  place  is  likely  to  remain  a melancholy 
monument  to  the  growth  of  materialism.  But  it  is  not 
only  the  would-be  convent  that  remains  void  and  silent 
in  Apparecida.  There  are  two  factories  in  the  town,  one 
for  making  matches,  the  other  for  textile  spinning,  both 
ingloriously  idle,  behind  closed  doors;  but  not,  it  would 
seem,  without  profit  to  their  far-seeing  founders,  'nor 
without  significance  as  to  the  bearing  of  politics  on 
industrial  enterprises,  even  in  these  apparently  unsophisti- 
cated regions.  If  popular  report  speaks  truly,  both  these 
factories  receive  compensation  for  remaining  closed,  from 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


87 


Trusts  which  prefer  a small  output  and  high  prices  to  cut- 
throat competition  and  a free  market.  The  match  factory 
started  under  the  auspicious  title  of  " O Progresso  ” ; its 
owner  being  a brother  of  the  President  of  the  State  of  Sao 
Paulo,  w'ho  gave  the  Company  its  concession.  From  the 
pubhc  point  of  view,  a little  healthy  competition  applied 
to  the  match  trade  monopoly  might  reasonably  come 
under  the  heading  of  progress,  but  for  the  bureaucrat  such 
an  innovation  would  sap  one  of  the  main  supports  of 
profitable  statecraft.  All  the  same,  one  would  like  to 
know  the  inner  history  of  the  founding  of  this  matchless 
factory. 

The  roads  were  impassable  in  and  about  Apparecida,  as 
the  result  of  heavy  rains,  so  we  reached  the  fazenda  San 
Raphael  by  way  of  Guaratingueta,  where  the  surveyor  of 
highways  enjoys  either  ampler  revenues  or  better  luck. 
Judging  by  outward  appearances,  the  local  elders  and 
guardians  of  this  borough  are  entitled  to  credit  for  well- 
kept  roads  and  other  manifestations  of  civic  virtue, 
including  an  excellent  school.  But  the  Cinema  was  there, 
as  it  seems  to  be  everywhere,  effectively  frustrating  all 
purposes  of  decent  education ; the  walls  of  the  town  were 
placarded  with  its  invitation  to  the  citizens  to  revel  in  a 
film  entitled  “ 0 Rapto  do  Venus.”  And  even  here  the 
affairs  of  men  were  feeling  the  far-flung  effects  of  the 
war.  A harness-maker  complained  that  he  could  no  longer 
get  leather,  because  certain  French  agents  had  been  buying 
up  all  the  local  hides  at  absurd  prices.  Could  not  the 
distinguished  Senhors  assist  him  to  secure  a contract  to 
supply  the  Allies  with  saddles  and  collars  of  superior 
quality?  He  could  then  afford  to  compete  for  hides. 
Even  this  unsophisticated  trader  had  mastered  the 
fundamental  principle  of  war  finance. 

Land  is  cheap,  amongst  these  foothills  of  Sao  Paulo,  as 


88  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


compared  with  Argentine  and  Uruguay  prices,  and  likely 
to  remain  so,  as  long  as  conditions  in  Europe  continue 
to  check  the  flow  of  emigration.  The  price  of  cattle  is 
also  considerably  lower  than  in  the  south,  though  rising 
as  the  local  frigorifico  demand  expands.  Newly  arrived 
Americans  believe  that  there  is  a future  for  sheep  and  pig 
farming  in  the  hill  country  round  about  and  a good  opening 
for  capital  with  brains  behind  it,  throughout  all  this 
district.  Until  now,  however,  sheep  farming  has  not  been 
a success.  A few  Englishmen  have  tried  it,  but  given  it 
up;  the  flocks  did  not  thrive  on  the  hill  grass,  and  the 
casualties  caused  by  jaguars  and  by  various  insect  plagues 
were  too  heavy.  But  many  experts  maintain  that,  with 
scientific  culture  of  pasture  by  burning,  ploughing  and 
sowing  good  grass,  and  with  selected  stock  in  well-fenced 
fotreros,  the  business  will  yet  be  made  to  pay.  To  the 
inexperienced  gringo,  the  climate  of  these  hills  seems 
admirably  suited  to  sheep,  but  'tis  a beast  of  crotchet}^ 
digestion,  and  nicely  capricious  in  the  matter  of  grass. 

In  1916  the  effect  of  the  war  was  clearly  manifest  in 
the  increasing  cost  of  living,  and  particularly  in  the  price 
of  imported  luxuries,  throughout  Brazil;  amongst  the 
poorer  class  of  farm  labourers,  the  pre-war  scale  of  wages 
was  no  longer  sufficient  to  provide  food  and  clothing.  An 
ordinary  fazenda  labourer  in  Sao  Paulo,  earning  thirty 
milreis  a month,  was  faced  with  problems  similar  to  those 
which  perplexed  the  working  classes  in  England,  but 
having  no  means  for  venting  his  grievances,  he  suffered 
the  hard  lot  of  the  inarticulate.  In  the  city  of  Sao  Paulo 
the  price  of  butter  was  four  and  a half  milreis  a kilo 
(roughly  two  shillings  a pound),  milk  was  sixpence  a litre, 
eggs  two  shillings  a dozen,  rice  fourpence  and  potatoes  two- 
pence a pound.  Coal  was  at  prohibitive  prices  and  fire- 
wood extremely  dear.  Beef  was  about  fourpence  a povmd, 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


89 


mutton  sevenpence  halfpenny  and  pork  sixpence.  As 
the  lowest  coin  in  common  circulation  is  loo  reis  (even 
now  more  than  a penny),  high  prices  mean  serious  hardship 
for  workers,  whose  wages  are  often  less  than  two  shillings 
a day.  For  the  wealthier  classes,  the  war  only  meant  a 
curtailment  of  luxuries;  fewer  and  dearer  Paris  clothes, 
no  new  motor-cars,  a serious  shortage  of  coal,  and  less 
petrol.  The  cost  of  champagne,  generally  a fair  test  of 
the  scale  of  prices  in  polite  society,  was  twenty-five 
milreis  at  the  “ Rotisserie  Sportsman,”  the  fashionable 
restaurant  of  Sao  Paulo,  and  thirty  milreis  at  the  exotic 
Monte  Carlo  plaisance  of  Guaruja. 

To  go  down  from  the  Sao  Paulo  tableland  to  Santos  by 
the  sea  is  to  pass  from  a temperate  climate  to  the  tropics ; 
in  1916  it  also  meant  passing  from  the  isolated  detachment 
of  the  interior,  to  sights  and  sounds  of  the  sea,  that  brought 
one  back  to  consciousness  of  the  war.  There  was  still  a 
good  deal  of  German  activity  and  influence  at  work  at 
Santos  in  the  spring  of  1916.  Up  to  that  time,  thanks  to 
the  curious  disinclination  of  Downing  Street  to  put  its 
foot  down  firmly  on  enemy  trading,  German  goods  still 
continued  to  be  imported  in  neutral,  and  even  in  British, 
ships,  to  the  scandal  of  all  decent  men  and  the  profit  of 
inveterate  free-traders.  The  Santos  Trawler  Company 
(originally  a fishing  enterprise  in  British  hands,  which 
passed  under  German  control  shortly  before  the  war,  and 
was  eventually  black-listed)  was  generally  suspected  of 
having  rendered  valuable  services  and  information  to 
German  warships.  The  machinery  that  carries  the  never- 
ceasing  stream  of  coffee-bags  along  the  docks  and  to  the 
ship-loading  feeders  at  the  berths  was  conspicuously 
German ; the  guttural  accents  of  the  Fatherland  offended 
one’s  ears  at  the  “ Sportsman  ” restaurant  and  on  the 
balconies  of  the  big  hotel  on  the  beach.  Such  ne\Ys  of 


90  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


the  war  as  was  to  be  found  in  the  local  papers  was  carefully 
attuned  to  the  exigencies  of  a prudent  neutrahty.  It 
is  pleasant  to  think  that  in  Brazil,  at  all  events,  the  ex- 
ponents of  piratical  Kultur  have  since  then  become  ahen 
enemies,  and  that  it  was  their  privilege  to  learn  what 
the  civilised  world  reaUy  thinks  of  Germany,  some  time 
before  that  knowledge  was  vouchsafed  to  the  Fatherland. 

Santos  has  a beautiful  river  approach,  guarded  by  a 
venerable  Portuguese  fort,  which  time  has  mellowed  to 
graceful  conformity  with  its  peacefully  slumbering  en- 
vironment. The  harbour,  too,  is  beautiful,  in  its  setting 
of  luxuriant  tropical  vegetation,  and  the  town,  behind 
the  busthng  wharves,  conveys  an  impression  of  unbroken 
siestas  and  serenity.  There  are  trumpet-tongued  news- 
vendors and  rattling  tramcars,  as  usual,  in  the  main 
streets,  but  beyond  these  voices  there  is  the  peace  of  a 
people  that  has  eaten  of  the  lotus,  which  has  learned  the 
futility  of  haste,  and  the  virtue  of  idleness  unashamed. 
The  houses  are  of  the  unpretentious  Portuguese  type, 
with  stucco  work  and  plaster,  generally  painted  in  bright 
colours;  most  of  the  shops  have  no  windows,  only  wide 
doors  that  open  inwards.  The  town,  that  was  once  a 
plague  spot,  is  well  drained  and  healthy  enough;  its 
mosquitoes  are  many  and  voracious,  but  their  bite  no 
longer  means  yellow  fever.  In  the  bathing  season,  the 
long  curving  beach,  dotted  with  the  villas  of  domesticity, 
is  invaded  by  the  high  life  of  Sao  Paulo,  with  its  Paris 
fashions  and  hmousines. 

But  for  the  everyday  traveller,  whether  on  pleasure  or 
business  bent,  the  charms  of  Santos  are  apt  to  pall. 
Whether  you  come  from  the  northern  hills  or  the  southern 
seas,  the  place  feels  stuffy,  its  air  heavy  with  the  breath  of 
decaying  vegetation,  suggestive  of  malaria,  which  clings 
to  river  banks  in  the  tropics,  Therefore,  if  you  have  a 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


91 


day  or  two  to  pass  here,  waiting  for  a steamer,  take  the 
barca  and  cross  the  river  to  the  spot  on  the  opposite 
shore,  whence  a railway  runs  to  Guaruja  and  its  Palace  of 
Enchantment  by  the  sea.  It  is  a toy  railway,  on  which 
a locomotive  of  the  type  of  Stephenson’s  " Rocket  ” pulls 
two  cars  on  a raised  trail  through  the  densest  of  jungly 
swamp,  with  here  and  there  a clearing  of  bananas  and 
sugar-cane,  until  suddenly  and  without  warning  it  emerges 
upon  Trouville  transplanted.  There  is  something  fan- 
tastically theatrical,  almost  impudent,  in  the  spectacle  of 
the  huge  hotel,  all  brilliantly  lighted,  as  it  comes  upon 
you  at  dusk  out  of  the  heart  of  the  dismal  swamp,  some- 
thing aggressively  incongruous  in  its  paraphernalia  of 
bathing  machines,  chalets,  band-stands,  casino  and  trim 
flower-beds.  It  is  as  if  you  met  a ballet  dancer  in  the 
depth  of  the  desert.  Magnificent,  no  doubt,  but  not  war ; 
you  feel  instinctively  that  this  Temple  of  Fortune  is 
nought  but  the  baseless  fabric  of  a dream,  a fool’s  paradise, 
which  must  speedily  be  dissolved  and  engulfed  between 
the  jungle  and  the  sea,  and  leave  no  trace  behind.  Already 
its  wood  and  metal  work  bear  testimony  to  the  insidious 
havoc  of  the  moist  tropic  air.  Meanwhile,  it  is  a very 
pleasant  place  in  which  to  dream,  lulled  by  the  restful 
murmur  of  the  rolling  surf.  The  Casino  season,  during 
which  the  coffee  kings  and  their  women-folk  come  here 
to  hold  high  revel  at  the  sign  of  the  spinning  wheel,  lasts 
only  some  six  or  seven  weeks,  and  in  that  time  the  tables 
are  expected  to  make  profit  enough  to  pay  for  the  year’s 
upkeep  of  the  establishment  and  to  give  dividends  to  the 
enterprising  capitalists  who  built  it.  Before  the  war, 
when  South  American  society  could  travel  in  its  wonted 
comfort  and  security,  Guaruja  in  the  season  attracted  a 
fashionable  crowd  of  plungers  and  birds  of  Paradise, 
from  Rio,  Montevideo  and  Buenos  Aires,  but  with  the 


92  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


war  its  glory  and  its  profits  departed,  like  those  of  Monte 
Carlo.  As  I saw  it,  in  the  dull  season,  the  gambling  (a 
little  mild  roulette  at  the  Petit  Casino)  attracted  only  a 
handful  of  habitues  from  Santos ; a few  transient  guests, 
mostly  Enghshmen,  kept  the  torpid  remnants  of  the 
hotel  staff  from  succumbing  to  sleeping  sickness.  Seen 
thus,  in  the  restful  silence  of  drowsy  noontides,  and  at 
night,  when  the  fireflies  danced  to  the  music  of  the  sea 
breeze  in  the  palms,  the  exotic  quality  of  the  place  and  its 
garish  ostentation  were  blissfully  forgotten.  Under  the 
silver  glimpses  of  the  moon,  its  beauty  became  a thing 
ethereal,  as  of  Arcady,  the  hotel  an  Elysian  palace  of 
dreams ; and  in  the  insidious  charm  of  this  fairy-tale  oasis 
there  lurked  a special  quality  of  ghostliness,  an  element 
of  fearful  joy,  because  of  that  untrodden  jungle  waste, 
that  wilderness  of  dismal  swamp  and  noisome  creeping 
things,  that  lay  so  darkly  threatening  and  so  close. 


CHAPTER  VI 


BUENOS  AIRES 

Here  and  there,  in  the  older  narrower  streets  of  its 
congested  centre,  Buenos  Aires  suggests  fleeting  memories 
of  Colonial  Spain;  memories,  too,  of  the  days  when  the 
Paris  of  the  New  World  was  still  a “ camp  ” town,  when 
the  city  fathers  reckoned  that  a street  was  wide  enough 
if  a man  could  hitch  his  horse  to  the  sidewalk  without 
fear  of  its  being  hit  by  a passing  carocoche.^  Not  so 
very  remote,  as  time  goes,  those  days,  though  the  present 
generation  with  its  busy  wharves,  trains  and  tramways, 
its  broad  boulevards,  opulent  suburbs,  and  cosmopohtan 
society,  has  almost  forgotten  them.  It  is  only  since  1880 
that  the  Argentine  hinterland  has  been  open  to  the 
“ starvelings  of  the  Old  World,”  as  Hudson  has  it,  to 
the  tide  of  Italian,  German  and  Pohsh  peasant  immigrants 
who  have  ploughed  their  prosperous  way  across  the 
great  pampean  plains,  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Andes. 
Until  1879,  when  the  Government  of  the  Republic  ordered 
General  Rosa  to  enlarge  the  boundaries  and  justify  the 
purposes  of  civilisation,  by  getting  rid  of  the  aborigines, 
the  white  man’s  country  that  lay  behind  Buenos  Aires, 
Rosario,  Concordia  and  other  outposts  of  colonial  days 
was  but  a thinly  settled  strip  of  territory  conquered  from 

^ Just  as  the  English  founders  of  the  Model  Settlement  at 
Shanghai  in  the  ’fifties  thought  that  its  streets  were  wide  enough 
when  there  was  room  for  two  tea-carrying  coolies  to  pass  each 
other. 


93 


94  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

the  Indians.  The  rest  was  still  their  happy  hunting- 
grounds. 

In  its  broader  aspects,  the  capital  of  to-day  is  less 
Spanish,  even  less  Latin,  than  the  cities  of  the  interior. 
The  silent  years  that  lie  between  the  coming  of  the  Con- 
quistadores  of  the  fifteenth  century  and  the  polyglot 
invasion  of  the  tw'entieth,  have  left  their  mark  upon  the 
life  of  the  “ camp  ” towns  all  over  the  country,  not  easily 
to  be  effaced  by  the  flowing  tide  of  new  men  and  new 
ways.  But  Buenos  Aires  is  become  essentially  cos- 
mopolitan, after  the  manner  of  New  York,  a place  of 
feverish  commerce,  where  (except  in  the  conservative 
world  of  officialdom)  the  Spaniards’  good  old  maiiana 
philosophy  has  gone  down  before  the  assaults  of  German 
clerks,  cash  registers,  telephones  and  other  pernicious 
inventions  of  Anglo-Saxon  and  Teutonic  hustling.  There 
is  scarcely  time  in  the  business  world  of  Buenos  Aires 
for  a decent  siesta,  no  leisure  for  mate  drinking,  no  dis- 
cussing the  details  of  the  latest  scandal  or  the  political 
situation  as  preliminaries  to  a leisurely  bargain.  Over 
the  way,  across  the  river,  in  Montevideo,  where  the  voice 
of  the  seventeenth  century  still  echoes  faintly  in  the  ears 
of  men  and  quite  distinctly  in  the  hearts  of  women,  there 
may  be  time  for  such  amenities;  but  Buenos  Aires, 
unmistakably  destined  to  become  the  greatest  emporium 
of  a hungry  world’s  food  buyers  and  sellers,  is  the  gather- 
ing place  of  those  for  whom  time  is  money,  a centre  of 
frenzied  finance,  a place  of  bustling  business  and  cos- 
mopohtan  activity. 

In  its  cosmopolitanism,  and  in  the  outward  and  visible 
signs  of  its  gigantic  commerce,  the  city  resembles  New 
York,  but  it  possesses  its  own  distinctive  quafities  of 
spaciousness,  of  free-handed  affluence ; an  exuberant 
atmosphere  suggestive  of  the  land  flowing  with  milk 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


95 


and  honey,  of  the  superabundance  of  flocks  and  herds, 
of  corn  and  wine,  that  lie  behind  it.  Fifty  years  ago, 
when  there  were  more  farmers  than  “ base  mechanicals  ” 
in  the  United  States,  New  York  displayed  this  same 
quality  of  spaciousness,  the  easy-going  optimism  which 
distinguished  the  well-stocked  seller  from  the  hungry 
buyer.  But  since  then,  while  the  industrial  nations  at 
the  centres  of  European  civilisation  have  become  more  and 
more  dependent  on  the  resources  of  the  “ Pampas  and 
Savannahs,”  North  America  (with  a doubled  population, 
rapidly  industriahsed)  has  been  added  to  the  long  hst 
of  competitors  for  the  Argentine’s  surplus  food.  The 
wharves,  frigorificos  and  grain  elevators  of  Buenos  Aires 
carry  the  message,  plain-writ  for  all  who  have  eyes  to 
see,  namely,  that  the  surplus  food  resources  of  South 
America  are  destined  to  bring  to  Argentina  more  and 
more  of  the  Old  World’s  hoarded  wealth,  and  of  the 
luxuries  and  vanities  in  which  wealth  expresses  itself. 
During  the  last  hundred  years  the  social  and  economic 
burdens  of  Europe  have  been  vastly  multiplied  by  reason 
of  the  unprecedented  increase  of  population  which  has 
resulted  from  the  transient  prosperity  of  urban  industri- 
alism, assisted  by  new  methods  of  food  transportation. 
Civihsation  at  its  centre  has  been  hving  freely  on  its 
capital,  bringing  into  the  world  milhons  of  hves  for  whose 
fitting  maintenance  the  world’s  diminishing  fertihty 
offers  less  and  ever  less  provision.  The  next  half-century 
is  bound  to  witness  a steady  transference  of  economic 
power  from  the  centre  to  the  circumference,  from  the 
lands  that  must  buy  food  and  raw  materials  to  the  less 
populated  fertile  countries  that  have  these  things  to  sell. 
Amongst  these.  South  America  stands  easily  first.  And 
so  the  whirligig  of  Time  brings  about  its  revenges;  the 
continent  that  was  plundered  of  its  gold  and  silver  by 


96  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


the  Conquistadores,  that  since  has  lain  fallow  and  almost 
forgotten  of  the  conquerors,  is  destined  to  become  an 
Eldorado  richer  than  that  of  any  buccaneer’s  imaginings, 
and  to  exact  vast  tribute  from  the  Old  World. 

Buenos  Aires  bears  evidence  to  the  rapidity  of  the  pro- 
cess; affluence,  actual  and  increasing,  is  the  keynote  of 
the  impression  that  the  city  conveys  in  all  its  moods 
and  tenses.  And  because  Argentina  is  essentially  a white 
man’s  country,  capital,  and  the  captains  of  industry  who 
handle  capital,  have  foregathered  here,  not  as  transient 
concessionnaires,  but  as  resident  citizens.  This  makes  the 
community  of  commerce  and  enterprise  even  more  cos- 
mopohtan  than  that  of  New  York,  though,  for  reasons 
that  I have  never  heard  explained,  the  Hebrew  of  high 
and  low  finance  is  less  ubiquitous  and  less  dominant  than 
one  would  expect  him  to  be  in  this  land,  where  money  and 
prodigals  are  plentiful.  The  Speyers  and  the  Meyers,  the 
Blumenthals  and  Rosenbaums  are  here,  of  course,  but 
their  names  do  not  encompass  you  on  every  side  as  in 
Broadway,  nor  do  they  seem  to  have  acquired  the  same 
stranglehold  on  banking  and  business  that  they  have  in 
New  York,  Johannesburg,  London  and  other  chief  market- 
places of  the  Gentiles.  Why  is  it  that  the  vastly  lucra- 
tive pidperia  business  of  money-lending  is  left  all  through 
the  country  to  Spaniards,  Italians  and  Basques  ? Is  it  the 
influence  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church,  or  the  rigidity 
of  South  America’s  social  barriers,  that  frightens  the 
children  of  Israel  from  this  land  of  promise?  These  be 
mysteries. 

English,  Scotch  and  Irish,  Italians,  Spaniards,  Germans 
and  Poles,  Frenchmen  and  Basques,  Greeks  and  the  various 
breeds  of  Levantines  who  in  these  regions  are  collectively 
classed  as  “ Turcos,”  all  these  go  to  the  making  of  the 
conglomerate  cosmopolis  of  modern  Argentina;  but  the 


THE  PLAZA  CONGRESS,  BUENOS  AIRES 


I 


u 


-#■ 


* - 


( 


f 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


97 


features  which  distinguish  the  social  life,  business  and 
sports  of  the  capital,  wheresoever  they  depart  from  Spanish 
tradition,  are  very  markedly  British.  In  literature, 
philosophy,  and  to  a certain  extent  in  politics,  the  Argen- 
tine is  inspired  by  French  ideals.  France,  the  fountain- 
head of  Latin  civilisation,  is  his  spiritual  home,  and  the 
fact  has  been  emphasised  by  the  war,  despite  the  pro- 
German  activities  of  the  clerical  faction  and  of  politicians 
with  overdrafts  in  German  banks.  But  in  other  direc- 
tions the  prevailing  influence  is  conspicuously  EngUsh. 
Your  Argentine  blade  gets  his  clothes  from  London,  owns 
an  English  terrier,  decorates  his  walls  with  English 
pictures,  knows  all  about  football,  and  belongs  to  a rowing 
club.  The  swell  shops  in  Florida  are  full  of  English  goods 
and,  next  to  Spanish,  English  is  the  language  of  com- 
merce. All  this  is  very  grateful,  an  abiding  testimony 
to  the  virtue  of  those  pioneers  of  bygone  days,  traders 
and  estancieros,  who  built  on  sure  foundations  the  tradi- 
tion of  the  palabra  d’ Ingles.  Very  comforting,  too,  is  the 
disappearance,  since  the  war,  of  German  goods  from  all 
their  former  coigns  of  vantage,  and  the  hope  that  here- 
after British  trade  and  enterprise  may  be  greatly  extended 
and  consolidated  in  this  country,  as  the  result  of  the  wide- 
spread antipathy  which  the  Teuton  has  aroused. 

But  there  is  a fly  in  the  ointment  of  this  hope,  a fly 
born  in  Manchester,  bred  in  the  dark  places  of  its  cos- 
mopolitan free-trade.  If  the  German  is  to  be  made  to 
expiate  his  sins  as  he  should,  if  he  is  to  be  prevented  from 
working  back  on  his  mole-like  tracks  to  the  undermining 
of  British  enterprise,  he  must  no  longer  be  encouraged 
in  the  pernicious  belief  that  his  “ English  friends  ” are 
disposed  to  allow  him  to  resume  his  business  of  peaceful 
penetration.  In  Buenos  Aires,  even  more  than  in  Rio, 
he  has  been  justified  in  his  cautious  opportunist  neutrality 

H 


98  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


by  our  own  Board  of  Trade  and  Foreign  Office,  whose 
inexplicable  reluctance  to  put  an  end  to  enemy  trading 
during  the  early  days  of  the  war  enabled  the  German 
merchant  to  hold  on  in  a situation  from  which  he  might 
otherwise  have  been  completely  ousted  before  the  end  of 
1915.  It  may  seem  incredible,  yet  it  is  nevertheless  true, 
that  until  the  middle  of  1916  a great  deal  of  business 
for  Germans  in  South  America  was  actually  financed 
from  London.  As  The  Times  correspondent  to  Buenos 
Aires  stated  at  the  beginning  of  the  year,  " Up  till  now 
German  firms  here  have  been  as  free  to  trade  with  British 
firms,  and  British  firms  at  home  with  local  German  houses 
here,  as  if  there  had  been  no  declaration  of  war  and  no 
Orders  in  Council.”  Patriotic  Englishmen  at  home  and 
abroad  spoke  bitterly  about  " the  hidden  hand,”  and 
wondered  by  what  means  the  powers  of  darkness  were 
able  to  maintain  their  evil  influence  in  high  places,  but 
as  a matter  of  fact,  there  has  never  been  any  real  secret 
as  to  the  nature  of  the  sordid  cosmopolitan  creed  pro- 
fessed by  the  pro-German  faction  at  the  centre  of  the 
Empire,  nor  any  possible  doubt  as  to  the  power  exercised 
in  pohtical  circles  by  naturahsed  Germans  and  German 
Jews  in  high  finance.  It  was  only  when  it  became  clear 
that  the  United  States  intended  the  join  the  affiance 
against  Germany  that  an  efficient  censorship  was  estab- 
lished between  Great  Britain  and  South  America,  and 
the  Black  List  instituted  to  curtail  the  activities  of  German 
traders  and  their  “ neutral  ” friends.  But  ever  since 
then,  Germany’s  good  free-trading  friends  in  England 
have  been  able  to  help  her  to  keep  her  place  in  the  sun, 
and  indirectly  to  supply  German  traders  in  South 
America  with  Manchester  goods.  At  the  end  of  March 
1918,  at  the  very  moment  when  Germany  was  staking 
all  on  a supreme  attempt  to  overwhelm  the  British  Army 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


99 


and  destroy  the  British  Empire,  the  same  Times  cor- 
respondent reported  that  the  beneficial  results  of  the 
measures  taken  against  German  trade  had  been  “ largely 
nullified  by  the  action  of  the  British  Government.”  That 
action,  as  he  explained,  served  the  purposes  of  the  German 
in  two  ways.  In  the  first  place,  it  allowed  “ Turkish 
importers” — i.  e.  S}Tians  and  Levantine  Jews  and  other 
nondescripts — to  continue  to  receive  Manchester  textiles, 
which  meant  that  the  German  dealer  would  receive  them 
indirectly  and  undersell  his  competitors  to  keep  up  his 
trade.  In  the  second  place,  it  removed  the  names  of  a 
number  of  German  firms,  among  them  several  of  the  most 
prominent,  from  the  South  American  Black  List  ” w'lth- 
out  consulting  the  local  authorities  and  apparently  regard- 
less of  the  deplorable  effect  upon  local  allied  and  neutral 
opinion.” 

To  those  of  us  who  have  witnessed  the  effects  of  govern- 
ment by  lawyers  and  plutocrats  on  our  policies  overseas, 
who  have  seen  honest  English  officials  in  Consulates  and 
Legations  compelled  to  act  upon  orders  that  made  them 
ashamed  to  look  their  countrymen  in  the  face,  there  was 
nothing  for  wonder,  little  even  for  criticism,  in  the  prudent 
neutrality  of  countries  like  Argentina.  Every  one  at 
Buenos  Aires  knew,  after  the  sinking  of  the  Lusitania, 
and  still  more  after  the  revelation  of  Count  Luxburg’s 
diplomatic  activities,  that  the  sympathies  of  the  vast 
majority  of  Argentinos  were  with  the  Allies.  But  they 
were  also  aware  that  public  opinion  in  the  Republic 
possesses  comparatively  little  influence  with  the  Govern- 
ment, partly  because  politics  in  this  " democracy,”  as 
in  many  others,  is  a game  which  the  workers  generally 
leave  to  the  talkers,  the  producer  to  the  professional 
politician.  Public  opinion  in  this  case  expressed  itself 
frequently  and  freely  in  denouncing  the  pro-German 


100  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


neutrality  of  Sefior  Presidents  Irigoyen  and  his  followers ; 
it  “ demonstrated  ” and  shouted  in  favour  of  the  Allies 
on  feast  days  and  other  occasions;  but  it  never  went  to 
the  length  of  organising  an  effective  political  opposition 
to  the  President’s  passivity  or  of  putting  a stop  to  the 
pernicious  activities  of  the  Germans  and  their  hirelings. 

The  deluded  idealists  and  party  pohticians  in  England, 
who  have  prated  and  preached  about  “ concihating  ” 
Sinn  Fein  and  persuading  Ireland’s  rebel  faction,  by 
graceful  concessions,  to  become  loyal  and  law-abiding 
citizens,  may  be  interested  to  learn  that  in  South  America, 
and  particularly  in  the  Argentine,  the  cause  of  the  Allies 
was  never  more  openly  opposed,  the  side  of  Germany 
never  more  openly  espoused,  than  by  a certain  section 
of  the  Roman  Catholic  Irish.  These  men,  many  of  them 
naturalised  Argentines  and  prosperous  settlers,  have 
preserved,  even  unto  the  second  and  third  generation, 
all  the  characteristics  of  the  priest-ridden,  turbulent, 
ignorant  peasantry,  whose  perverse  hatred  of  all  consti- 
tuted authority  is  the  real  curse  of  Ireland ; the  plotting 
of  disloyalty  and  the  brooding  over  ancient  fantastic 
grudges  are  inbred  in  their  bones,  unreasoning  racial 
animosity  the  very  breath  of  their  nostrils.  It  was  not 
enough  for  these  traitors  to  the  common  cause  of  civil- 
isation that  Ireland  should  have  been  scandalously  pam- 
pered by  British  politicians,  relieved  from  bearing  her 
share  of  the  Empire’s  burden  of  w'ar,  exempted  from 
food  rations,  war  taxation  and  the  defence  of  the  realm. 
From  their  place  of  comfortable  security,  they  continued 
to  satisfy  their  atavistic  instincts  of  tribal  warfare  and 
to  conform  to  Ireland’s  pitiful  traditions  of  sordid  con- 
spiracy and  religious  bigotrj^  I will  cite  merely  one 
instance  of  their  activities.  On  the  20th  of  June,  1916,  at 
the  Irish  Roman  Catholic  Chapel  at  Rosario,  a Mass  was 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


101 


celebrated  under  the  auspices  of  the  St.  Patrick’s  Society 
“ in  memory  of  the  dead  who  fell  fighting  for  the  freedom 
of  their  country  in  April  and  May  ” — not,  mark  you,  of 
the  Irishmen  who  had  fallen  on  the  battlefields  of  France 
to  preserve  Europe  (and  incidentally  Ireland)  from  the 
heel  of  the  Hun,  but  of  those  who  had  met  their  fate 
after  murdering  British  soldiers  in  the  streets  of  Dublin. 
Describing  this  interesting  ceremony,  the  Irish  Monthly 
(a  German  subsidised  rag  published  in  Buenos  Aires) 
deplored  the  absence  of  a number  of  influential  members 
of  the  St.  Patrick’s  Society;  the  entertainment  was 
undoubtedly  calculated  to  attract  prosperous  renegades. 
One  Father  Stechy,  assisted  by  Father  Murray  (O.S.F.), 
said  the  Mass  in  the  Chapel  deeply  draped,  and  thereafter 
a card,  printed  in  Spanish,  was  distributed  amongst  the 
faithful,  announcing  the  death  “ due  to  a serious  attack 
‘ Germanofilo,’  comforted  by  holy  shells  and  torpedoes, 
of  the  Queen  Mary,  Indefatigable,  Invincible,  Black  Prince, 
Warrior,  Princess  Royal,  etc.,  etc.”  The  imperishable 
quality  of  Irish  humour  was  manifested  in  the  statement 
that  " Lord  Kitchener  would  not  attend  the  funeral, 
having  gone  to  inspect  British  submarines  at  the  bottom 
of  the  North  Sea.”  Well  might  the  anonymous  author 
conclude  with  ” God  save  Ireland  ! ” And  well  may  any 
sane,  self-respecting  Irishman,  sick  of  its  priest-ridden, 
drink-sodden  politics,  despair  of  salvation  for  the  dis- 
tressful country,  so  long  as  the  United  Kingdom  con- 
tinues to  be  governed  by  opportunist  demagogues.  Our 
present  ills  are  not  to  be  cured  by  Home  Rule  for  Ireland , 
but  rather  by  pogroms  of  shifty  politicians  in  England. 
Fortunately  for  the  Argentine,  there  are  not  enough  Irish 
of  the  scheming,  trouble-breeding  kind  within  her  borders 
to  debauch  her  internal  politics  as  for  years  they  debauched 
those  of  the  United  States. 


102  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

I do  not  mean  by  this  to  suggest  that  either  national 
or  municipal  politics  in  the  Argentine  are  conducted 
exclusively  by  Bayards  and  Galahads — far  from  it.  But 
such  unwholesome  fruits  as  result  here  from  the  graft  of 
modern  socialism  on  to  the  sturdy  stem  of  Latin  repub- 
licanism, are  at  least  free  from  the  sordid,  corner-saloon, 
vice-forming  features  which  have  come  to  be  identified 
with  the  activities  of  Hibernian  pohtics  in  North  America. 
Here,  as  in  our  European  democracies,  politics  is  become 
a profession  unattractive  to  men  of  punctilious  honesty 
and  fastidious  conscience ; a necessary  business,  no  doubt, 
but  unpleasant.  In  the  Argentine,  as  in  Uruguay,  your 
average  decent  citizen  speaks  of  pohticians  much  in  the 
same  way  that  he  speaks  of  locusts.  He  accepts  them 
and  all  their  works  as  evils  to  be  endured,  because  experi- 
ence has  shown  him  that  a change  of  government  is 
merely  a new  and  expensive  shuffle  of  the  same  old  greasy 
pack.  The  game  itself  never  changes. 

It  is  evident  that  there  must  be  public  offices  and  men 
to  fill  them,  a pubhc  purse  and  men  to  empty  it ; but  in 
South  America,  as  in  England,  the  game  of  exploiting 
the  community  in  the  sacred  name  of  democracy  has 
become  too  obviously  transparent,  and  the  nmnber  of 
hands  that  demand  access  to  the  till  is,  therefore,  con- 
tinually being  increased  from  the  ranks  of  the  thriftless 
and  the  inefficient.  These  and  their  dependents,  and  all 
those  who  hope  to  derive  benefits,  direct  or  indirect,  from 
office-holders,  form  a body  of  citizens  by  no  means  incon- 
siderable. At  election  time — there  was  a Presidential 
election  in  April  1916 — the  stranger  within  the  gates  of 
Argentina  might  be  led  by  their  tumults  and  shoutings 
to  think  that  the  entire  population  takes  an  intelligent 
interest  in  the  business  of  government,  and  possesses  a 
fitting  sense  of  responsibility  in  the  exercise  of  the  fran- 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


103 


chise.  But,  bless  you,  the  interest  that  the  average  non- 
official takes  in  the  Presidential  election  is  much  the  same 
as  that  which  he  takes  in  a horse-race,  except  that  attend- 
ance at  races  is  optional,  whereas  if  he  declines  to  vote 
at  elections  the  State  fines  him  ten  dollars.  In  reality, 
he  no  more  controls  the  nomination  and  election  of  those 
who  will  dispose  of  the  public  purse  and  patronage  for 
the  next  six  years,  than  the  deluded  folk  who  shout  them- 
selves hoarse  at  the  bidding  of  the  party-machine  in 
Great  Britain.  But  the  tub-thumpers  and  gargoyles  of 
the  contending  factions  loudly  assure  him  that  he  does, 
and  a well-nourished  Press  keeps  up  the  pleasant  illusion 
of  a representative  Government  freely  chosen  by  an 
enlightened  electorate.  As  a matter  of  fact,  and  as  the 
result  of  applying  our  crude  ideals  of  democracy  to  com- 
munities untrained  in  the  duties  of  citizenship,  the  spoils 
system  in  politics  is  carried  here  (as  in  other  American 
Republics)  to  a more  logical  and  straightforward  con- 
clusion than  with  us.  When  a President’s  term  of  office 
expires  in  Argentina,  not  only  do  all  the  Ministers  of  his 
Government  vacate  their  offices  and  retire  with  their 
secretaries,  proteges  and  satellites,  but  all  the  chief 
municipal  dignitaries — Police,  Post  Office,  Public  Health, 
etc. — must  also  resign.  Thus  the  world-wide  game  of 
Ins  and  Outs,  of  Haves  and  Have-nots,  is  played  once 
every  six  years,  with  the  pubhc  purse  as  prize,  and  for 
a few  brief  riotous  days  nearly  every  one  is  more  or  less 
concerned,  in  pocket  or  in  prospect,  with  the  shuffling 
of  the  executive  pack. 

At  the  time  of  the  celebration  of  Argentina’s  centenary 
of  independence,  the  country  had  but  recently  recovered 
from  one  of  the  most  keenly  contested  elections  in  its 
history.  The  usual  machine-made  differences  between 
Reds  and  Whites,  between  Ins  and  Outs,  had  on  this 


104  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


occasion  been  supplemented  by  a real  difference,  which 
appealed  to  something  higher  than  the  pocket  of  many  a 
citizen,  namely,  the  question  whether  the  Republic  should 
have  a pro-German  or  a pro- Ally  Government.  There  is 
no  doubt  whatsoever  that  had  the  country  been  in  a 
position  to  vote  on  this  issue  only,  Senor  Irigoyen  and  his 
Radical  friends  would  never  have  obtained  a majority 
of  the  votes  of  the  Electoral  Colleges ; but  the  war  was  a 
long  way  off,  and  the  glib  politicians  were  able  to  divert 
the  voter’s  sympathetic  glance  from  France  and  Belgium 
by  directing  it  towards  new  and  highly  attractive  pictures 
of  loaves  and  fishes.  So  the  Radicals  came  into  power, 
backed  by  the  clericals  and  a highly  organised  German 
propaganda,  though  by  this  time  the  name  of  German  had 
begun  to  stink  in  the  nostrils  of  every  decent  Argentine. 
Thus  is  representative  government  based  on  universal 
suffrage  in  a modern  democracy.  The  Centenary  cele- 
brations emphasised  in  more  ways  than  one  the  transient 
and  precarious  nature  of  the  satisfaction  which  the  system 
affords  to  Demos  himself.  With  the  exception  of  one 
thoroughgoing  partisan,  who  endeavoured  to  give  the 
populace  genuine  cause  for  rejoicing  by  shooting  at  the 
President,  the  acts  of  the  apostles  of  democracy,  the 
manifestations  of  politician  orators  and  organisers,  were 
curiously  lacking  in  enthusiasm,  not  to  say  conviction. 
There  were  patriotic  speeches,  of  course,  by  National 
Deputies  in  the  Plaza  San  Martin,  torchlight  processions 
(the  torches  were  forgotten)  and  other  “ demonstraciones 
por  el  glorioso  aniversario,”  but  somehow  they  all  seemed 
to  be  even  more  perfunctory  and  artificial  than  such  things 
usually  are.  The  oratory  was  sonorous  and  dramatic 
enough,  and  the  procession  business  was  done,  as  the 
Latin  only  can  do  it,  with  a certain  dignity,  artistically 
suggestive  of  some  worthy  purpose ; but  there  was  nothing 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


105 


in  the  attitude  of  the  crowd  to  create  the  impression  that 
the  pulse  of  the  nation  was  beating  any  faster  than  usual, 
or  that  any  statesman  had  got  his  finger  on  it. 

The  narrow  ways  of  Florida,  San  Martin,  Maipu  and 
Reconquista,  all  gay  bedecked  with  flags  and  arched 
festoons  of  electric  lights,  reminded  one  of  the  business 
quarter  of  a Chinese  city.  At  the  height  of  the  festivi- 
ties the  crowds  were  packed  so  tightly  in  these  fashion- 
able streets  that  movement  became  impossible.  Even  in 
normal  times,  carriage  traffic  can  only  use  them  in  one 
direction,  for  the  cross  streets — Cangallo,  Corrientes,  etc. — 
are  equally  narrow ; so  that  to  get  to  any  particular  spot 
you  frequently  have  to  drive  round  an  entire  “ block,” 
and  if  you  look  hke  a stranger,  Jehu  will  generally  throw 
in  an  extra  block  or  two  for  luck.  In  the  Avenida  Florida, 
all  vehicular  traffic  ceases  at  four  o’clock  in  the  after- 
noon, in  order  that  pedestrians  have  a chance  to  “ circu- 
late,” which  with  one  accord  they  dechne  to  do.  On 
the  contrary,  half  the  population  seems  to  have  acquired 
a fixed  habit  of  giving  and  taking  the  day’s  news,  with 
occasional  refreshment,  in  this  its  favourite  street. 
Talking  of  favourite  streets,  there  is  something  pathetic 
in  the  fearful  monotony  of  their  names,  all  over  South 
America.  From  Panama  to  Patagonia,  the  Conscript 
Fathers,  or  whosoever  is  responsible  for  these  things, 
appear  to  have  exhausted  all  the  resources  of  their  his- 
torical knowledge  and  patriotic  imagination  when  they 
have  christened  their  chief  Plaza  with  the  date  of  the 
Republic’s  Independence  or  Constitution,  and  their  streets 
by  the  names  of  neighbouring  provinces  or  prominent 
pohticians.  It  would  seem  as  if  the  entire  history  of 
South  America  began  and  ended  with  the  birth  of  its 
Republics,  and  their  subsequent  puerperal  fever;  as  if 
the  nostrums  of  the  modern  demagogue  had  consigned  art 


106  :men,  manners  and  morals 


and  literature  to  oblivion,  together  with  the  great  epics 
of  the  Spanish  navigators  and  Conquistadores.  Stout 
Cortes,  Coliunbus  and  Cervantes,  Pizarro  and  Mendoza 
are  all  forgotten;  there  is  scarcely  a narrow  calle  of  the 
suburbs  to  do  them  reverence.  Even  the  sleepy  rustic 
townlets  of  the  “ campo  ” call  their  Plaza  " 25  de  Mayo.” 
From  the  speeches  of  the  orators  of  the  Centenary 
celebration,  and  the  general  tenor  of  the  patriotic  festi- 
vities, I gathered  that  the  fundamental  cause  for  Argen- 
tina’s rejoicings  lay  in  having  thrown  off  the  yoke  of 
Spain,  together  with  all  the  foolishness  of  Europe’s  effete 
monarchical  traditions  and  mediaeval  superstitions.  The 
Republic,  it  appears,  has  lighted  the  lamp  of  Liberty  with 
the  oil  of  democracy  and  its  brightness  of  felicity  is 
ensured,  henceforth  and  for  ever,  on  a basis  of  equality 
and  fraternity.  That  any  freeborn  citizen  should  think 
it  necessary  to  demonstrate  his  feelings  on  an  occasion  of 
this  kind  by  shooting  at  the  President,  would  appear  to 
indicate  the  presence  of  flies  in  the  democratic  amber. 
And  there  were  others : for  example,  the  local  Press 
vaunted  itself  on  the  fact  that  the  street  illuminations 
had  cost  $300,000 ; they  made  little  or  no  mention  of  the 
fact  that  the  Municipality  was  heavily  in  debt  to  the  Gas 
Company  (a  British  concern),  and  that  the  City  Fathers 
were  evidently  relying  on  the  Monroe  doctrine  or  a German 
victory  to  evade  their  obligations.  Much  eloquence  was 
devoted  to  extolling  the  city’s  civic  splendours;  deputies 
and  delegates  spoke  melodiously  on  this  theme  during  the 
four  days  of  the  fiesta,  but  nobody  appeared  to  attach  any 
importance  to  the  fact  that  the  street  scavengers  had  just 
gone  on  strike  to  secure  a living  wage.  The  educational 
activities  of  the  Republic  were  emphasised  in  processions, 
exercises  and  games,  and  rightly  so,  for  taken  as  a whole, 
liberal  education  stands  at  a high  level  in  most  of  the 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


107 


South  American  Republics.  Nevertheless,  on  the  evening 
of  Sunday,  the  5th  of  July,  chief  day  of  the  fiesta,  I 
witnessed  the  performance  of  a play  {Articulo  7,  it  was 
called)  at  the  Theatre  Royal,  grossly  and  stupidly  indecent 
to  a degree  which  no  civilised  community  of  effete  Europe 
would  tolerate,  a mixture  of  bawdry  and  buffoonery,  only 
equalled  by  the  exhibitions  of  the  local  picture-palaces 
and  calculated  to  nullify  all  the  uplifting  efforts  of  the 
best-intentioned  teachers. 

Doubtless,  to  the  eye  of  the  well-fed  wayfarer,  these 
festivities  of  the  young  Republic,  with  all  its  vast  resources 
of  undeveloped  wealth,  might  well  portend  a new  world 
made  prosperously  safe  for  democracy.  What  other  land 
on  this  hard-worked  and  anxious  planet  could  close  its 
Custom  House  and  its  Post  Office  for  three  hilarious  days 
of  feasts  and  torchlight  processions,  taking  no  thought 
for  the  morrow?  They  will  tell  you  at  the  Jockey  Club 
that  there  are  no  beggars  in  Buenos  Aires  (it  is  true  that 
the  only  one  I met  was  an  English  beachcomber),  but 
they  cannot  shut  their  eyes  to  the  unpleasant  fact  that 
socialism,  of  a type  very  nearly  akin  to  Bolshevism,  lies 
very  near  to  the  surface  of  local  politics,  endemic  and 
malignant.  The  anti-social  activities  of  Polish  Jews  arc 
just  as  dangerous  in  the  New  World  as  in  the  Old.  Caelum 
non  animum  mutant.  To  have  thrown  off  the  yoke  of 
mediaeval  monarchical  Spain  is,  no  doubt,  an  achieve- 
ment; to  live  in  a land  of  spacious  fruitfulness  is  to  be 
favoured  of  the  gods.  But  can  any  one  who  contemplates 
Demos  in  South  American  cities,  restless,  w'ayward,  full 
of  windy  words,  say  truthfully  that  the  average  citizen 
has  come  much  nearer  to  the  source  of  happiness  than  the 
veriest  beggar  who  suns  himself  on  the  steps  of  the 
Cathedral  in  old  Seville,  or  the  ladrones  of  the  Barcelona 
waterside  ? 


108  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


Certain  things  stand  out,  distinct  in  their  significance, 
against  the  blurred  background  of  my  brief  days  in 
Buenos  Aires.  These,  in  the  order  of  their  importance, 
are,  the  Jockey  Club,  the  Cattle  Show  at  Palermo,  and 
Count  Luxburg,  in  splendid  isolation  at  the  Plaza  Hotel. 
Each,  in  its  way,  throws  a little  light  on  the  peculiarities 
of  the  great  southern  city’s  politics  and  social  evolution; 
in  a sense  they  stand  respectively  for  typical  local  manifes- 
tations of  the  world,  the  flesh  and  the  devil. 

The  Jockey  Club  is  a sermon  in  stone  lor  those  who  have 
eyes  to  see,  a striking  testimony  to  the  wisdom  of  old 
Socrates  which  foretold  the  perils  of  a democracy  un- 
restrained by  an  aristocracy  of  character  and  intelligence. 
The  lesson  conveyed  by  this  gilded  palace  of  plutocrats 
is  particularly  significant,  now  in  the  time  of  our  mortal 
life  when  the  Old  World,  looking  to  democracy  for  salva- 
tion, has  seen  it  in  Russia  transformed  before  its  very 
eyes  into  a bloodthirsty  gang  of  plundering  tyrants. 
For  here,  on  virgin  soil,  democracy  started  with  a clean 
slate,  free  to  work  out  its  salvation  and  to  find  the 
promised  Utopia,  having  cast  off  all  the  tradition  and 
trammels  of  autocracy  with  the  yoke  of  Spain.  And 
what  is  the  result  ? A distribution  of  wealth  more  unequal 
than  that  of  Europe,  and  the  growth  of  a plutocracy 
possessed  of  greater  opportunities  and  greater  power  than 
any  class  of  aristocrats  in  the  Old  World.  Here,  in  a 
land  which  professes  to  be  ultra-democratic,  in  a Republic 
ostensibly  founded  on  principles  of  liberty,  fraternity 
and  equal  opportimity,  an  exclusive  plutocratic  clique 
systematically  exploits  the  nation’s  ruling  passion  for 
gambling,  and  neither  the  law  nor  public  opinion  seems 
to  take  any  exception  to  the  arrangement.  Over  the  way, 
in  Montevideo,  the  same  strange  apathy  exists  in  the 
matter  of  public  gambling  encouraged  by  the  Government, 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


109 


which  at  the  same  time  professes  to  be  guiding  the  Republic 
straight  to  Utopia,  by  the  way  of  Sefior  Battle’s  super- 
socialistic  theories. 

The  Jockey  Club  gets  lo  per  cent,  of  the  totalisator 
receipts  at  the  Palermo  Races,  and  as  they  have  races 
every  Sunday  and  Thursday,  the  Committee  have  to 
exercise  a good  deal  of  ingenuity  to  spend  the  money 
and  at  the  same  time  to  maintain  the  hidalgo  exclusive- 
ness represented  by  a $3000  entrance  fee.  To  become  a 
member  is  the  ambition  of  every  successful  Argentine, 
but  if  report  speaks  truly,  the  blackball  moves  here  with 
a discrimination  worthy  of  the  best  haunts  of  an  esoteric 
aristocracy,  and  no  less  irritating  to  its  victims.  The 
Club  premises  are  the  last  word  in  opulence,  a little  florid 
perhaps — opulence  of  the  kind  which  seeks  sohd  comfort 
embellished  by  the  artistic  temperament — but  undeniably 
magnificent;  a joy  for  ever  to  the  diplomats  and  other 
honorary  members  who  tread  these  marble  halls  and  eat 
these  dainty  meals  at  a cost  that  may  be  called  nominal, 
as  things  go  in  the  Argentine.  As  for  me,  while  I gaze 
reverently  on  the  gorgeous  pictures,  tapestries  and  old 
porcelain  that  adorn  this  home  of  Dives,  while  I walk 
humbly  through  its  salle  d’escrime,  its  baths  and  all  the 
cosy  corners  where  well-fed  Croesus  takes  his  ease,  I see, 
behind  and  beyond  these  things,  those  which  have  made 
them — the  Gauchos  trooping  their  slow-moving  herds, 
the  endless,  strenuous  labour  of  the  " camp,”  the  pampas 
slowly  yielding  to  the  plough — and  I wonder  whether, 
as  the  politicians  say,  democracy  wiU  ever  devise  and 
establish  a world-wide  state  of  society  in  which  the 
labourer  shall  not  only  be  worthy  of  his  hire,  but  shall 
enjoy  a fair  share  of  the  fruits  of  his  labour.  There  has 
certainly  been  nothing  in  the  recent  record  of  Demos,  from 
China  to  Peru,  to  justify  confidence  in  the  Wilsonian 


110  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


type  of  academic  optimism  or  to  lead  one  to  believe 
that,  when  the  world  has  been  made  quite  safe  for  demo- 
cracy, the  strong  will  cease  to  prey  upon  the  weak,  the 
clear-headed  to  exploit  the  brainless,  and  the  thrifty  to 
profit  by  the  foohshness  of  the  spendthrift. 

At  the  Palermo  Cattle  Show  I saw  a champion  bull, 
bought  for  sixty  thousand  dollars  by  Senor  Drabble. 
The  placid  beast  showed  no  sign  of  interest  in  the  admir- 
ing crowd;  from  out  his  monstrous  bulk  of  heavy  flesh 
his  pensive  eye  gazed  upon  the  beauty  and  fashion  of 
Buenos  Aires  in  mild  abstraction;  no  praise  of  cattle 
kings  could  move  him  from  his  sadly  contemplative  mood. 
All  these  Pashas  of  the  bovine  aristocracy  are  purposely 
fattened  for  the  exhibition,  and  then  must  go  into  training 
to  reduce  their  weight  before  they  become  serviceable  for 
stud  work.  It  seems  an  absurd  arrangement,  until  you 
recollect  that  the  final  end  of  all  this  exhibition  of  the 
blue  blood  of  pedigree  beasts  and  all  the  activities  of 
cattle  kings  is  to  produce  food,  ever  more  and  more  food, 
for  the  hungry  towm-bred  masses  of  Europe’s  congested 
civilisation.  The  more  layers  of  fat  these  beasts  can 
accmnulate,  the  better  the  immediate  chances  of  square 
meals  for  London,  Paris  and  Vienna.  Thus  seen,  all  the 
herds  of  the  Pampas  represent  so  much  Bovril  and  Oxo, 
so  many  sides  of  beef,  standing  yet  a little  while  between 
Europe’s  improvident  industriahsm  and  the  disastrous 
penalties  of  its  purblind  economic  sins. 

For  me,  the  thought  of  the  saladero — that  a\vful  place 
of  never-ending  slaughter — is  unpleasantly  near  to  the 
surface  at  an  exhibition  of  this  kind.  I have  an  uneasy 
feehng  that  the  beasts  know  all  about  it;  I see  a dumb 
reproach  in  their  far -gazing  eyes.  Out  in  the  " campo,” 
moving  amongst  accustomed  things,  busy  with  their  o\\m 
ruminations,  the  menace  of  man  is  remote  from  them. 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


111 


his  visitations  brief.  There  I can  look  upon  them  without 
feelings  of  compunction,  but  here  I feel  as  if  I should  like 
to  apologise  to  them  in  some  way  for  humanity  in  general. 
So  let  us  leave  the  stalled  beasts  and  visit  him  who  hath 
dominion  over  them,  in  the  person  of  the  auctioneer,  now 
conducting  a very  rapid  and  remunerative  business  in 
the  sale  ring.  A very  voluble  person  was  the  rematador, 
on  this  occasion  member  of  a firm  with  the  highly  appro- 
priate name  of  Bullrich  & Co.  His  patter  was  like  hail- 
stones on  a corrugated  iron  roof,  “ domil-domil ; beedup- 
beedup,”  breathless  and  incessant;  to  judge  by  his  fierce 
rapid  gesture,  his  beseechings  and  ironic  running  com- 
mentary on  the  parsimony  or  apathy  of  buyers,  he  might 
have  been  selling  high  explosives  instead  of  Herefords  and 
Durhams.  At  all  events,  a highly  efficient  auctioneer,  and 
typical  in  his  way  of  the  infusion  of  Anglo-Saxon  business 
methods,  of  a certain  liveliness,  which  distinguishes  men 
and  affairs  in  Buenos  Aires  from  those  of  the  easy-going 
towns  of  the  interior,  more  faithful  to  the  Spanish  tradition. 

Count  Luxburg,  of  " Spurlos  versenkt  ” fame,  remains 
a curiously  prominent  figure  in  my  impressions  of  Buenos 
Aires  in  1916,  for  several  reasons.  One  is  that  I had  known 
him  ten  years  before  as  Secretary  of  the  German  Legation 
at  Peking,  and  had  then  had  occasion  to  learn,  at  no  small 
cost,  what  depths  of  treacherous  guile  lay  beneath  his 
suave,  dilettante  manner  and  faux  honhomme  urbanity. 
In  those  days  he  cultivated  a sort  of  British  Guardsman 
style  of  dress  and  deportment,  a pretty  taste  in  Rliine 
wines,  and  a hobby  for  Oriental  carpets,  but  for  all  that 
he  was  an  unmistakable  Junker  to  the  tips  of  his  slim 
fingers.  Having  studied  him  at  close  range  and  watched 
his  honest  broker  methods  of  advancing  Deutschland 
fiber  Alles  amongst  the  Chinese,  it  was  interesting  and  in 
keeping  with  the  fitness  of  things  to  find  him  here,  all  his 


112  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


airs  and  graces  gone,  the  leader  and  forlorn  hope  of 
Deutschdum  on  a continent  where  the  name  of  Germany 
had  already  begun  to  stink  in  the  nostrils  of  all  honest 
men.  Having  many  friends  in  the  Argentine  Government 
and  in  the  Clerical  party,  and  plenty  of  money  to  spend  in 
proclaiming  the  certainty  of  Germany’s  ultimate  victory, 
he  was  not  yet  disposed — as  he  became  after  the  “ Spurlos 
versenkt  ” incident — to  walk  humbly,  or  even  to  be  pohte. 
On  the  contrary,  secure  in  the  protection  of  Argentina’s 
neutrality,  he  swaggered  and  blustered  in  true  Junker 
fashion;  but  it  was  obviously  the  bravado  of  a bully, 
desperately  afraid.  He  showed  none  of  the  cool,  cynical 
effrontery  which  helped  Bernstorff  to  remain  dignified 
even  in  disgrace.  Luxburg,  surrounded  by  a group  of 
faithful  henchmen  in  the  hall  of  the  Plaza  Hotel,  was 
given  to  much  boastful  talking  and  truculent  glaring  at 
any  English  or  Frenchman  who  might  be  present,  but 
the  man  was  none  the  less  evidently  rattled  and  ratty. 
He  had  bluntly  declined  to  act  upon  the  Plaza  manager’s 
polite  suggestion  that  he  should  remove  himself  and  his 
entourage  from  the  hotel.  Every  ingenious  device  to 
dislodge  him  had  failed,  but  splendid  isolation  was  telling 
on  his  nerves.  He  behaved  like  a bear  with  a sore  head, 
and  in  that  role  provided  much  pleasant  entertainment 
for  those  who  gathered  at  the  Plaza,  for  the  five-o’clock 
thes  dansants.  On  one  occasion  he  made  a tremendous 
scene  because  he  had  overheard  some  one  talking  about 
the  Boche;  on  another  he  declined  to  go  up  in  the  lift 
with  a member  of  the  British  Legation,  and  was  accord- 
ingly left  foaming  with  rage,  the  centre  of  a scene  that 
became  suddenly  charged  with  innocent  merriment. 
In  public  and  in  private  this  fretful  representative  of 
Kultur  dragged  his  dismal  coat-tails,  looking  for  the  trouble 
which  in  the  end  overtook  him.  Anything  and  every- 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


113 


thing  that  offended  his  nice  German  sense  of  honour 
became  the  subject  of  indignant  protest  to  the  Argentine 
Government.  He  complained,  for  instance,  that  the 
German  flag  had  been  left  out  in  the  great  tableau  of 
the  performance  of  Excelsior  at  the  Colon.  The  theatre 
authorities  made  suitable  amends  at  the  next  performance 
by  having  two  small  German  ensigns  brought  in  at  the 
tail  of  the  procession  by  lads  in  Chinese  costume.  Then 
he  complained  of  the  performance  of  the  Cadeau  de 
Noel,  and  the  Government  had  the  play  withdrawn. 

Sweet  are  the  uses  of  neutrality.  There  is  no  doubt 
whatsoever  that,  until  the  United  States  came  into  the 
fray,  and  until  the  seamy  side  of  Luxburg’s  diplomacy 
was  revealed  in  the  “ Spurlos  versenkt  ” despatches, 
Senor  Irigoyen  and  his  friends  effectively  tempered  the 
wind  to  the  shorn  German  lamb.  But  those  were  the  sad, 
bad  days,  when  the  Argentine  politician  believed  in  the 
invincibihty  of  the  German  army  and  trimmed  his  prudent 
course  accordingly,  when  the  extremely  cautious  neutrality 
of  the  Buenos  Aires  Press  justified  its  deference  to  the 
feelings  of  the  Hun  by  reference  to  its  “ very  conservative 
clientele,”  and  by  emphasising  the  benefits  which  Argen- 
tina might  expect  to  derive  after  the  war  from  German 
trade.  Even  Senor  Mitre,  of  the  Nacion,  I remember, 
dechned  a suggestion  that  they  should  publish  some  of 
Raemaeker’s  cartoons,  on  the  ground  that  they  would 
annoy  his  Conservative  subscribers.  Argentine  neutrality, 
in  fact,  was  purely  a matter  of  business,  into  which  no 
sentiment  was  allowed  to  intrude.  Well  and  good;  but, 
as  I ventured  to  observe  to  Senor  Mitre  at  the  time,  if  all 
the  eloquence  which  Argentina  has  devoted  to  splendid 
ideals  of  civilisation  and  the  rights  of  humanity,  faded 
thus  into  oblivion  when  confronted  with  business,  if  the 
signature  of  the  Republic  on  the  Hague  Conventions  was 

I 


114  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

nothing  more  than  a pious  expression  of  irresponsible 
opinion,  what  will  be  the  position  of  Argentina  at  the  next 
gathering  of  the  family  of  nations  ? 

Before  bidding  farewell  to  Buenos  Aires,  let  me  record 
one  pleasing  and  instructive  httle  scene  of  which  I hap- 
pened to  be  a spectator.  In  the  street  in  front  of  Harrod’s 
replica  of  the  Brompton  Road  Stores,  I noticed  that  the 
crowd  was  more  than  usually  congested,  and  that  all  its 
attention  was  directed  to  the  shop  windows,  which,  in 
the  fashionable  promenade  of  Florida,  was  noteworth3^ 
The  centre  of  attraction,  I discovered,  lay  in  a group  of 
new  dress-model  dummies,  lifelike  waxen  beauties  of  the 
type  which  has  been  created  in  recent  years,  so  delicate 
and  dainty  in  their  pale  loveliness  that,  remembering 
the  simpering  horrors  of  the  shop  windows  of  our  youth, 
one  would  wish  to  raise  a monument  in  honour  of  their 
unknown  creator,  that  nameless  benefactor  of  the  human 
race.  These  peerless  specimens  at  Harrod’s,  arranged  in 
all  the  glory  of  the  latest  Paris  fashions,  were  fascin- 
ating enough  to  evoke  unrest  and  invidious  comparisons 
in  the  bosom  of  most  male  Argentines  and  fierce  longings 
in  the  breast  of  their  women-folk.  “ Caramba,”  said  a tall 
young  Gaucho  to  his  campanero,  " porque  nb  hay  mujeres 
como  estas  aqui  ? ” Not  that  the  smart  women  of  Buenos 
Aires  have  much  to  learn  in  the  way  of  dress — in  their  ow 
way  they  are  as  chic  as  any  in  the  world — but  the  tall, 
voluptuous  figures  of  these  waxen  queens,  their  expres- 
sion of  patrician  hauteur  tempered  by  roguish  allure- 
ments, their  blue  eyes  and  dainty  curls — well,  they  may 
be  good  business,  but  I am  not  sure  that  in  the  long  run 
it  would  not  pay  better  to  design  Spanish-type  dummies 
for  the  South  American  market.  What  is  the  good  of 
arousing  in  highly  susceptible  breasts  hopes  that  can  never 
— or  hardly  ever — be  realised? 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


115 


As  a matter  of  fact,  women  of  the  smart  set  in  Buenos 
Aires  are  ahead  of  the  London  and  Paris  fashions — to  their 
no  small  satisfaction — for  the  simple  reason  that  Europe’s 
summer  models  are  generally  designed  in  Paris  in  Decem- 
ber and  reach  Buenos  Aires  in  January  or  February,  that 
is  to  say,  in  time  for  the  summer  season  of  the  Argentine. 
The  wealthy  fashionables  of  the  New  World  are  very 
fashionable  indeed,  and  in  the  matter  of  dress,  as  in 
everything  else,  they  seem  to  esteem  things  chiefly  for 
their  costliness.  Cheapness  they  despise ; any  shop- 
keeper will  tell  you  that  it  does  not  pay  to  recommend 
low-priced  goods.  The  higher  the  prices,  the  sweller  the 
shop,  and  the  more  satisfactory  the  lordly  buyer.  Small 
wonder  that  life  is  expensive,  where  luxuries  are  concerned, 
in  this  land  of  swift  fortunes  and  open-handed  prodi- 
gality. The  scale  of  wages  is  correspondingly  high  for  all 
domestic  service  amongst  the  town  dwellers;  a kitchen 
wench,  raw  from  a farm  in  Lombardy,  will  earn  fifty 
dollars  a month,  and  a chauffeur  £300  a year  and  all  found. 
Nevertheless,  taking  it  all  round,  the  cost  of  living  was  no 
dearer  here  in  1916  than  in  New  York  or  Petrograd  before 
the  war ; it  is  certainly  lower  to-day  than  in  Montevideo, 
for  the  reason  that  the  Uruguayan  gold  dollar  is  worth 
about  two  and  a half  times  as  much  as  the  Argentine  silver 
peso.  In  such  matters  as  hotel  charges,  public  convey- 
ances, gambling,  lottery  tickets,  laundry  bills,  the  Argen- 
tine dollar  seems  to  go  almost  as  far  as  the  Uruguayan,  so 
that  if  you  reckon  your  expenditure  in  sterhng,  Montevideo 
is  a good  deal  more  expensive  than  Buenos  Aires.  For 
example,  a taxicab  driver  in  Montevideo  (wath  his  taxi- 
meter permanently  out  of  order)  asks  you  a peso  (say, 
4s.  6d.)  for  five  minutes’  drive  in  his  rickety  old  box  of 
tricks.  The  Buenos  Aires  man  will  charge  you  a peso  worth 
IS.  ^d.  for  about  the  same  distance.  Montevideo’s  laundry 


116  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

charges,  calculated  in  sterling,  are  only  equalled  by  those 
of  a fashionable  hotel  in  Paris ; so  much  so,  that  one  can 
only  conclude  that  the  bulk  of  the  population  must  do 
their  family  washing  on  the  back  premises.^  Hotels  in 
Montevideo  are  nothing  to  write  home  about,  but  the  cost 
of  a room  at  the  best  of  them  is  not  much  less  than  at  the 
Plaza  in  Buenos  Aires — about  £i  a day  for  a good  room 
with  bath.  Somehow  or  other,  Buenos  Aires  has  acquired 
a legendary  reputation  for  being  the  most  expensive  place 
on  earth ; all  I can  say  from  personal  experience  is  that 
there  are  many  cities  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic  which 
take  it  out  of  you  just  as  thoroughly,  if  not  more  so. 

Enough  of  cities.  From  their  pomps  and  vanities  let 
us  away  to  the  wilds,  to  Paraguay,  the  sore  stricken,  and 
the  fringe  of  the  Chaco  Austral. 

^ Very  possibly  they  do.  Spanish  women  are  all  artists  de 
vatura  at  laundry  work,  which  may  account  for  the  price  they 
set  upon  it.  In  Buenos  Aires  their  handiwork  is  as  immaculate 
as  in  Madrid,  which  is  saying  a great  deal. 


A " CARNE  CON  CUERRO,”  ARGENTINA 


To  face  p.  ii6. 


CHAPTER  VII 


UP  THE  PARANA  ; A GLIMPSE  OF  THE  CHACO  AUSTRAL 

There  are  more  ways  than  one  of  reaching  Paraguay 
and  the  city  of  Asun9ion.  Bold  spirits  and  explorers 
may  follow  the  old  northern  and  western  war  tracks 
from  Bolivia  or  Brazil,  and  rough  it  there  to  their  heart’s 
content.  But  for  weaker  vessels  handicapped  by  age 
or  fixed  habits  of  sleeping  and  eating,  the  best  starting- 
point  is  Buenos  Aires.  Thence  you  may  go  by  railway, 
in  thirty-six  hours,  or  by  river-boat  up  the  Parana, 
which  last  is  a matter  of  four  or  five  days,  according 
to  the  state  of  the  weather,  the  ship’s  engines,  the  amount 
of  traffic  at  the  ports  of  call,  and  the  remnant  of  spasmodic 
energy  abiding  in  the  cargo-purser.  As  a rule  only 
such  unfortunate  persons  as  have  goods  to  sell  or  debts 
to  collect  in  a hurry,  or  New  Yorkers  obsessed  by  the 
incurable  time-saving  delusion,  elect  to  go  by  railway. 
Apart  from  the  physical  pains  and  penalties  of  that 
rough  road,  no  traveller  with  any  sense  of  the  fitness 
of  things,  none  who  would  rightly  conciliate  the  tutelary 
spirits  of  this  lotus-eating  land,  should  approach  Asuncion 
at  anything  more  rapid  than  the  steamer’s  eight  miles 
an  hour.  During  the  hundred  and  odd  hours  of  the 
leisurely  progress  of  the  river-boat,  watching  the  banks 
go  slowly  by,  with  their  struggling  settlements  and 
little  clearings  standing  out  pathetically,  like  brief  visions 
of  Arcadia,  against  the  everlasting  wilderness  of  jungle 
and  swamp;  studying  the  words  and  works  of  the 
strangely  interesting  mestizo  race  that  has  sprung  from 

117 


118  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


the  admixture  of  Iberian  and  Indian  blood;  above  all, 
learning  to  realise  something  of  the  immense  silent 
force  and  fertility  of  subtropical  plant  life,  an  incalcu- 
lable factor  in  the  history  of  this  part  of  the  continent; 
this,  surely,  is  the  right  and  seemly  way  to  pass  from 
the  bustling  modernity  of  Buenos  Aires  to  the  silent 
places,  haunted  of  dreams  that  never  yet  came  true,  at 
the  heart  of  South  America.  Furthermore,  to  create 
the  atmosphere  proper  to  the  study  of  Paraguay  and 
her  remnant  people,  the  searcher  after  knowledge  may 
profitably  beguile  the  leisure  of  these  drowsy  ship- 
board days  by  reading  Father  Dobrixh  offer’s  History  of 
the  Abipones,  an  Equestrian  People  of  Paraguay,  and 
Cunninghame  Graham’s  Vanished  Arcadia. 

In  the  estuary  of  the  Rio  de  la  Plata,  and  in  many  a 
long  stretch  of  the  Parana,  this  river  travel  reminds  one 
forcibly  of  the  Yangtsze-kiang  in  summer.  The  water  has 
the  same  pea-soup  quality ; there  are  the  same  shoals  and 
banks  of  silted  loess  and  the  same  swift  changes  of  tem- 
perature, dependent  on  the  direction  of  the  wind.  China 
is  over-populated,  and  the  Yangtsze’s  banks  swarm  with 
pullulating  humanity,  wheresoever  cultivation  is  possible ; 
Paraguay  is  a land  of  grim  silences,  a wilderness  that 
stands  untrodden  and  untamed,  as  it  stood  when  first 
Sebastian  Cabot  and  De  Sohs  ascended  the  Parana. 
Nevertheless,  in  both  lands  one  is  oppressed  by  an  ever- 
present sense  of  the  inscrutable  destinies  of  man,  of  the 
eternal  and  apparently  meaningless  mystery  of  the 
struggle  for  life  on  this  ever-warring  planet.  In  both  one 
comes  to  sympathise,  as  by  a sense  intuitive,  with  the 
stoic  fatalism  which  characterises  the  peoples  of  these 
far-divided  continents;  the  one  so  old,  the  other  so  new, 
as  measured  by  man-recorded  time.  Here,  just  as  in 
Far  Cathay,  life  is  cheap  and  time  of  no  accoimt. 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


119 


From  Reconquista  northwards  to  the  river  Bermejo, 
skirting  the  lagoons  and  thickly-wooded  shore  of  the 
' Chaco  Austral,  you  have  time  and  to  spare  for  meditation ; 
to  dream  and  picture  to  yourself  the  life  of  this  land  in 
those  far-distant  days  when,  after  the  passing  of  the 
Conquistadores,  the  Jesuits  established  their  Arcadian 
Commonwealth  amongst  the  Guaran^  Indians  of  the 
wilderness,  between  the  Parana  and  the  Paraguay.  Look- 
ing back  across  the  misty  gulf  of  two  hundred  years,  to 
the  happy  life  of  the  prosperous  Mission  towns,  which 
now  lie  swallowed  up  in  the  green  sea  of  this  fiercely 
hungry  vegetation,  one  wonders  what  the  Republic  of 
Paraguay  might  have  been  to-day  if  the  work  of  Alvar 
Nimez,  Ruiz  Montoza  and  their  devoted  brethren  had 
been  permitted  to  endure,  if  the  wise  priests  had  not  been 
driven  forth  and  their  flocks  despoiled  and  dispersed, 
by  the  political  and  commercial  exponents  of  our  restless 
civilisation?  A pitiful  tale  this,  of  splendid  ideals  and 
efforts  brought  to  naught,  which  one  may  still  read  in 
scattered  vestiges  of  cultivation,  in  the  creeper-covered 
belfries  of  ruined  churches,  from  Corrientes  in  the  Argentine 
to  Rio  Grande  do  Sul  in  Brazil. 

But  of  all  this,  of  the  hopes  and  fears  and  martyrdoms 
that  lie  deep  buried  in  these  deserted  Missions,  and  in  a 
few  forgotten  books,  you  will  seldom  hear  a word  spoken 
amongst  the  estancieros,  commercial  travellers  and  function- 
aries, who  take  their  meals  and  play  their  interminable 
" truce  ” and  poker  in  the  saloon  of  the  river-boat.  For 
the  native-born,  the  hijo  del  pais,  once  you  get  away  from 
the  Europeanised  life  of  the  commercial  cities  of  the 
Atlantic  coast  (whose  intellectual  capital  is  Paris),  and 
lose  the  main  current  of  white  immigration,  the  history 
of  the  country  begins  with  the  post -revolutionary  period. 
It  centres  habitually  in  the  sordid  struggles  of  the  military 


120  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


dictators  and  political  adventurers,  who,  in  the  sacred 
name  of  Liberty,  have  cultivated  every  noxious  growth 
of  tyrannical  bureaucracy  and  shown  to  what  straits 
an  undisciplined  people  may  be  brought  by  the  despotism 
of  a false  democracy.  The  farther  you  penetrate  into 
the  inland  fastnesses  of  the  South  American  continent,  the 
more  sonorous  become  the  periods  of  the  pohticians  who 
proclaim  the  inahenable  rights  of  man  and  the  doctrines 
of  liberty,  equality  and  fraternity;  the  more  conspicuous 
also  the  parlous  condition  of  the  States  which  have 
hearkened  unto  them.  Several  causes  have  combined 
to  make  Paraguay  the  happy  hunting-ground  of  the 
demagogue,  and  a most  remarkable  example  of  democracy 
four  rire — et  pour  pleurer.  In  the  first  place,  its  geogra- 
phical and  climatic  conditions  have  naturally  tended  to 
foster  the  cheerful  self-sufficiency  which  accepted  the 
military  dictatorship  of  Francia  and  followed  the  tyrant 
Lopez  in  his  heroic,  suicidal  wars  of  aggression.  But 
we  must  go  down  deeper,  back  to  the  days  of  the  Spanish 
conquest,  to  find  there  in  social  causes  a convincing 
explanation  of  the  mestizo  soul,  as  expressed  in  Paraguayan 
politics,  and  of  the  gradual  shrinkage  of  one  of  the 
noblest  provinces  of  Colonial  Spain  to  its  present  narrow 
boundaries. 

The  state  of  society  in  Paraguay,  at  the  time  of  the 
Spanish  conquest,  was  rendered  essentially  different  from 
that  of  Chile  or  Mexico  by  reason  of  the  simple  fact  that 
the  followers  of  Mendoza  and  Irala  brought  practically 
no  Spanish  women  with  them,  and  therefore  intermarried 
freely  with  the  Guarany  Indians.  From  the  offspring 
and  descendants  of  these  marriages  arose  the  ruling  class. 
In  the  absence  of  new  white  immigration,  they  came  in 
course  of  time  to  regard  themselves  as  Spaniards,  whereas, 
ip  the  other  provinces,  the  offspring  of  niixed  marriages  . 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


121 


remained  practically  Indians.  Moreover,  the  devastating 
wars  waged  by  Lopez  killed  off  (together  with  nine-tenths 
of  the  able-bodied  male  population)  the  little  remnant  that 
then  remained  in  the  country  of  pure-bred  Spanish  stock. 
Since  that  time  the  decimated  country,  preserving  its 
independence  solely  because  of  the  mutual  jealousies  of 
Argentina  and  Brazil,  has  been  the  undisputed  stamping- 
ground  of  predatory  demagogues,  windy  Jacobin  preachers 
of  the  false  doctrine  of  social  rights  without  civic  duties, 
who  have  made  the  spirit  of  revolution  endemic.  All  the 
racial  qualities  and  defects  of  the  aboriginal  Guarany 
stock  have  tended  to  dispose  the  mestizo  product  to  accept 
with  alacrity  the  political  heresy  which  makes  every  man 
a despoiler,  and  never  a supporter,  of  the  public  purse. 
Idleness,  inbred  by  centuries  of  ease  in  a highly  fertile 
land,  comes  naturally  to  this  people ; by  the  authority  of 
imported  modern  Socialism,  it  has  been  raised  to  a fine 
art,  so  that  no  self-respecting  man  works  if  he  can  help  it, 
and  all  look  upon  the  State  as  the  milch  cow  miraculous, 
the  universal  provider.  Therefore,  and  also  because  no 
people  can  live  for  ever  by  taking  in  each  other’s  washing, 
the  Paraguayan  dollar  (still  proudly  described  by  the  native 
as  the  peso  fuerte,  to  distinguish  it  from  the  rival  debased 
currency  of  Bohvia)  is  worth  three  or  four  cents  to-day  in 
the  world’s  markets. 

But  to  leave  the  barren  field  of  politics  and  return 
awhile  to  the  humanities  aboard  our  river-boat.  One 
of  the  things  that  chiefly  impresses  the  European  traveller 
— unless  already  familiar  with  the  social  code  and  the 
relations  of  the  sexes  in  South  America — is  the  way  in 
which  the  men  and  women  are  kept  severely  apart. 
Aboard  the  Berna  there  were  several  families,  occupying 
side  tables,  whilst  the  Captain’s  central  table  was  occu- 
pied solely  by  men,  The  Rabelaisjap  character  of  the 


122  :men,  manners  and  morals 


conversation  at  that  table,  conducted  by  cahalleros,  priests 
and  cow-punchers  alike,  afforded  in  itself  a sufficient  ex- 
planation (Moorish  traditions  apart)  of  many  things  that 
might  otherwise  puzzle  the  uninitiated.  At  every  baile 
(dance)  you  will  see  the  same  thing;  the  women  were 
virtuously  clustered  together  on  one  side  of  the  room,  and 
the  men  on  the  other.  You  will  find  it  strictly  observed 
in  the  travelling  booths  of  the  humblest  marionette  show, 
playing  to  the  peons  and  their  families  on  some  lonely 
estancia  in  the  wilds;  and  even  in  the  comparatively 
sophisticated  drawing-rooms  of  Montevideo  and  Buenos 
Aires,  the  same  social  code  is  generally  imposed,  with 
similar  precautions. 

The  position  of  the  Captain  aboard  these  river-boats 
is  chiefly  social  and  ornamental;  he  has  little  or  nothing 
to  do  with  navigation.  This  is  entrusted  to  the  capable 
hands  of  praticos  or  quartermaster-pilots,  supported  by 
a numerous  crew  of  leisurely  and  loquacious  citizens. 
The  ship  carries  a postal  clerk  and  two  pursers,  one  for 
passengers  and  one  for  cargo;  all  three  officials  have 
smart  uniforms  and  command  the  services  of  assistant 
autocrats ; their  duties  (between  meals  and  siestas)  consist 
largely  in  the  discussion  of  politics  and  the  playing  of 
cards  with  the  Captain  and  his  guests,  with  occasional 
excursions  dovui  the  primrose  path  of  flirtatious  dalliance. 
Such  posts  are  naturally  greatly  coveted  by  the  relatives 
or  proteges  of  Argentine  statesmen,  with  the  result  that 
Government  interference  in  the  business  of  naffigation  on 
the  Parana  has  sometimes  reached  a point  at  which  ship- 
ovTiers  have  seen  fit  to  transfer  their  vessels  to  the  slightly 
less  bureaucratic  administration  of  Uruguay. 

But  the  praticos  know  their  work,  and  their  naviga- 
tion on  the  whole  is  singularly  free  from  accidents  and 
delays,  considering  the  erratic  behaviour  and  dangerous 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


123 


shoals  of  the  river.  Only  once  on  this  trip,  just  after 
leaving  Corrientes,  did  the  Berna  run  aground  on  a 
sandbank,  thereby  damaging  her  rudder.  We  lay  there, 
effecting  repairs,  most  of  the  night,  but  neither  Captain, 
crew  nor  passengers  appeared  in  the  least  disturbed 
by  the  prospect  of  the  addition  of  twelve  hours,  more 
or  less,  to  the  journey.  Mas  6 menos  and  manana,  in 
these  latitudes,  run  each  other  very  close  for  first  place 
as  the  expression  of  the  philosophy  of  the  race.  Here, 
as  in  the  wise  old  East,  men  have  discovered  that  time 
is  not  money  unless,  for  our  sins,  we  choose  to  make 
it  so. 

Time  was  certainly  not  money  with  the  officers  and 
passengers  of  the  S.S.  Berna,  a cheery,  light-hearted  poly- 
glot lot,  whose  life  on  board  consisted  of  meals,  sleep, 
conversation  well  spiced  with  wine,  women  and  song, 
and  card-playing,  which  went  on  from  siesta  time  till  the 
small  hours  of  the  morning.  The  poker  players  included 
the  Captain,  purser,  and  postal  clerk,  a Greek  Argentine, 
a doctor  returning  to  his  home  in  Corrientes,  two  estanciero 
brothers  of  Scotch  descent,  a dentist,  a journalist  bound 
for  Parana,  a North-American  German,  a Frenchman  in 
the  yerba  trade,  and  an  Italian  belonging  to  the  orange- 
growing company  at  Villeta.  I had  witnessed  at  Buenos 
Aires  the  conjugal  embraces  and  admonitions,  the  demon- 
strative farewells,  the  taking  of  valedictory  snapshots, 
with  which  the  wives,  mothers  and  sisters  of  these  intrepid 
travellers  had  sent  them  forth  upon  the  great  adventure 
of  this  river  journey,  and  I knew  that  under  most  of  their 
Tartarin  waistcoats  there  lurked  a genuinely  domesticated, 
if  somewhat  wayward,  soul.  I had  seen  the  Corrientes 
doctor  come  aboard,  singing  purple  songs  of  Araby,  so 
to  speak,  and  his  chartered  libertine  pose  was  hardly 
to  be  reconciled  with  the  Benedick  care  he  lavished  on  his 


124  MEN,  IMANNERS  AND  MORALS 


baggage,  consisting  chiefly  of  three  bowls  of  goldfish  and 
a cageful  of  canaries. 

For  a gringo  travelling  in  search  of  knowledge,  there 
was  much  to  be  learned  from  these  men,  for  all  their 
light-hearted  insouciance;  and  they  made  the  learning 
very  easy  and  pleasant.  Whatever  undesirable  types  of 
humanity  there  may  be  in  South  America,  there  are  no 
snobs;  the  social  taboos  and  fictitious  class  barriers  in 
which  our  Upper  Footings  delight,  are  unthinkable  here. 
These  people  take  (or  leave)  you  on  your  merits,  as  a 
human  being,  not  on  those  of  your  ancestors  or  your 
bank  account ; every  peon  will  give,  and  claim,  the  same 
courtesy  as  his  padron.  After  a brief  acquaintance,  if 
you  are  sociably  inclined,  they  will  call  you  by  your 
Christian  name;  as  Don  Juan  or  Don  Carlos,  henceforth 
and  for  ever,  you  will  be  known  to  them  and  to  their  little 
world.  Except  for  ultra-serious  purposes  of  business, 
surnames  are  superfluous  in  these  regions;  in  the  case  of 
an  Englishman,  at  all  events,  the  son  of  the  soil  prefers 
to  ignore  them,  for  names  like  Thistlebottom  and  Macgilly- 
cuddy  are  beyond  his  linguistic  capacity,  and  involve  an 
absurd  waste  of  mental  effort.  If  you  are  a stranger 
and  friendly  disposed,  he  will  call  you  Senor,  or,  as  a 
concession  to  your  nationality,  plain  “ Mister  ” ; later, 
in  moments  of  expansion,  he  will  use  the  more  intimate 
“ che,”  that  curious  Pampas-born  term  of  affection, 
universally  used  amongst  friends  and  familiars  in  these 
parts.  It  is  not  Spanish,  this  “ che  ” (though  you  will 
hear  it  used  by  seafaring  men  at  Valencia  and  Barcelona), 
but  seems  to  have  been  borrowed  from  the  Guaran^, 
in  which  language  it  means  " mine.”  Anyway,  Spanish 
South  America  could  not  get  on  without  it.  To  be 
addressed  as  “ che  ” means  that  you  have  been  promoted 
to  the  brotherhood  of  the  elect. 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


125 


Amongst  this  polyglot  gathering  on  the  Berna,  and  at 
the  cafes  of  our  various  ports  of  call,  one  could  not  fail 
to  notice  how  sensibly  the  Spanish  language  is  being 
modified  by  the  frequent  admixture  of  Italian  and  Portu- 
guese idioms;  it  looks,  indeed,  as  if  in  many  places  the 
result  would  be  a new  lingua  franca.  The  influence  of  the 
Italian  tongue  is  particularly  noticeable.  In  certain 
districts  of  the  Chaco,  for  instance,  settlers  from  the 
Piedmont  are  more  numerous  than  those  of  other  nationali- 
ties; these  men  seem  to  forget  their  mother  tongue  very 
readily,  but  conspicuous  traces  of  it  survive  in  the  vocabu- 
laries of  the  entire  district.  At  Villeta,  between  Formosa 
and  Asun9ion,  where  a large  Italian-Guarany  community 
is  prosperously  engaged  in  the  orange  business,  natives 
and  emigrants  alike  speak  an  olla  fodrida  tongue,  very 
musical,  but  perplexing  to  the  uninitiated.  A very 
beautiful  sight,  by  the  way,  is  the  wharf  at  Villeta,  where 
the  graceful,  gentle-featured  women  unload  the  golden 
fruit  from  great  oxen-drawn  carts  and  pack  it  swiftly 
into  bags,  which  the  men  carry  aboard.  Looking  at  the 
kindly  intelligent  faces  of  these  descendants  of  the 
Guaran^^s,  one  can  understand  why  the  Jesuits  made  of 
them  such  good  Christians.  I have  no  means  of  knowing 
what  the  nature  or  state  of  their  souls  may  be,  but  physi- 
cally they  are  certainly  far  more  attractive,  more  simpatico, 
as  they  themselves  would  say,  than  a wharf-side  crowd  in 
London  or  Liverpool,  New  York  or  Nagasaki. 

At  Corrientes,  where  the  Berna  reposed  leisurely  for 
the  better  part  of  a beautiful  day  of  sunshine  and  cool 
breezes,  there  is  a big  trade  in  oranges.  As  many  as 
forty  wagon-loads  a day  go  hence,  by  the  railway  to 
Concordia,  to  Buenos  Aires.  A queer  old  place,  this 
Corrientes,  with  its  streets  dimly  lighted  by  kerosene 
lamps,  the  grass  growing  luxuriantly  between  the  rails 


126  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


of  a decrepit  tram  line,  dogs  drowsing  in  the  sun,  and  the 
inhabitants  all  apparently  busy  at  midday  with  the  local 
paper,  a sheet  about  the  size  of  a page  of  John  Bull.  It 
has  the  reputation,  however,  of  being  an  enterprising  and 
prosperous  town,  in  spite  of  its  generall}^  mouldy  appear- 
anee,  its  shocking  bad  roads,  its  lack  of  drains  and  other 
public  works.  The  provincial  elections  were  in  full  swing 
the  day  we  were  there,  and  a prominent  citizen  who  did 
the  honours — one  of  the  poker  party — assured  us  that 
the  destinies  of  the  Republic  depended  on  the  result. 
Beyond  a certain  liveliness  at  the  Cafe  de  Buenos  Aires, 
there  was,  however,  nothing  to  indicate  that  Corrientes 
was  aware  of  the  fact,  or  that  any  of  its  inhabitants  had 
sufficient  faith  in  politicians  to  hope  that  either  the  Ins 
or  the  Outs  would  ever  make  a decent  road  to  the  race- 
course and  the  “ Jar  din  Madrid.”  There  is  something 
very  strange  in  the  slumbrous,  well-satisfied  repose  of 
these  “ camp  ” towns  of  the  Argentine  and  Uruguay, 
when  one  reflects  that,  for  nine  months  in  the  year,  the 
climate  is  temperate,  and  that  immigration  is  continually 
bringing  them  infusions  of  new  blood.  No  doubt  it  is 
only  on  the  surface,  like  the  apparent  inactivity  of  little 
prairie  towns  in  the  States  or  the  great  wheat  plains  of 
Canada ; for,  after  all,  a place  like  Corrientes  is  the  gather- 
ing place  and  market  for  the  ever-increasing  produce  of 
a vast  tract  of  country. 

The  manager  of  the  Cafe  de  Buenos  Aires — a very  up- 
to-date  hotel — was  (I  know  not  what  he  is  to-day)  a very 
rabid  pro-German,  who  made  no  secret  of  his  sympathies. 
In  his  office  you  had  the  satisfaction  of  paying  your  bill 
confronted  by  truculent  effigies  of  the  Kaiser,  Hindenburg 
and  Co.,  backed  by  the  German  flag.  With  this  gentle- 
man’s idiosyncrasies  the  local  politicians,  being  neutrals, 
were  evidently  unconcerned,  but  I will  record  it  to  their 


CORRIENTES  (ARGENTINA)  SEEN  FROM  THE  RIVER 


[To  face  p.  126. 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


127 


credit  that  when,  at  dinner,  the  manager’s  son  told  his 
German  pianist  (whose  efforts  were  supposed  to  assist 
digestion  and  conversation)  to  play  the  “ Wacht  am  Rhein,” 
three  or  four  of  them  insisted  on  his  following  it  up  with 
” God  Save  the  King.”  And  this  he  did  without  demur, 
whilst  half  the  room  stood  up,  with  the  three  Britishers 
present,  in  honour  of  His  Majesty. 

Above  Corrientes,  the  river  broadens  out  into  long 
shallow  reaches,  full  of  shoals  and  sandbanks,  and  navi- 
gation is  as  tricky  as  on  the  Peiho  or  the  Mississippi.  Very 
beautiful,  especially  at  sunset,  are  these  long  stretches  of 
river,  flowing  amidst  the  silence  and  shadows  of  the 
Paraguayan  jungle  and  the  untamable  wilderness  of  the 
Chaco  Austral.  One  sees  an  alligator,  here  and  there, 
hardly  distinguishable  from  driftwood,  on  the  sand-flats ; 
a few  parrots,  toucan  and  wild-fowl,  but  scarcely  a sign  of 
human  habitation  or  handiwork.  At  Las  Palmas,  four 
hours  from  Corrientes,  I left  the  Berna  and  her  cheerful 
company,  being  invited  by  the  hospitable  Irishman  who 
manages  a great  sugar  and  tannin  factory  in  these  wilds, 
to  see  something  of  life  in  the  Chaco. 

When  you  land  on  the  mudbank  at  Las  Palmas,  and 
contemplate  the  little  fnierto,  which  consists  of  a few 
ramshackle  buildings  and  a tinpot  station  at  the  end  of 
the  factory’s  Decauville  line,  you  begin  to  understand  the 
feelings  of  Martin  Chuzzlewit  when  introduced  to  the 
delectable  city  of  Eden.  You  look  at  the  half  a dozen 
ragged  specimens  of  humanity  who  have  just  come  across 
from  the  Paraguayan  shore,  ostensibly  to  sell  oranges; 
your  eye  takes  in  all  the  visible  details  of  the  further 
landscape,  consisting  exclusively  of  mud,  swampy  jungle 
and  a dozen  miserable-looking  hovels,  and  you  ask  your- 
self, by  what  inspiration  of  courage  or  superior  knowledge 
came  it  that  an  Ulsterman  from  Ballymena  should  elect 


128  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


to  make  a fortune  in  such  a spot  and  with  such  materials  ? 
You  know  that  he  did  achieve  a fortune  and  that  he  has 
made  the  wilderness  to  blossom,  if  not  precisely  like  a 
rose,  at  least  very  fruitfully;  and  so,  like  him,  you  go 
forward  in  faith  and  hope. 

After  six  miles  of  the  Decauville  line  on  a bumpy  motor 
trolley,  through  country  waterlogged  by  recent  thunder- 
storms, and  interspersed  with  sugar-cane  plantations,  you 
emerge  at  the  factory.  The  wilderness  encompasses  it 
about  so  closely  on  every  hand,  it  seems  so  utterly  remote 
from  the  world  that  lives  by  machinery  and  trade,  its 
steam  whistle  strikes  so  fanciful  a note  amidst  these 
wastes,  as  fallow  now  as  they  were  by  the  sources  of  time, 
that,  in  spite  of  the  huge  stacks  of  quebracho  and  the 
fussy  activity  of  the  tinpot  railway,  you  never  quite  get 
over  the  first  impression  of  incongruous  unreality,  of  an 
Aladdin-lamp  or  magic-carpet  illusion.  This  impression 
grows,  in  fact,  when  they  show  the  palatial  mansion  that 
Hardy  of  Ballymena  conjured  for  himself  out  of  the  swamp, 
his  wonderful  house  of  tessellated  floors,  marble  baths  and 
stained-glass  windows.  It  is  empty  and  silent  now  for 
eleven  months  out  of  the  twelve,  because  Hardy  has  been 
gathered  to  his  fathers,  and  all  this  goodly  messuage 
serves  only  as  the  monument  of  one  who  made  his  dreams 
come  true,  and  as  a gathering  spot  for  the  seven  Directors 
of  the  Company  which  now  reigns  in  his  stead.  These 
come  from  Buenos  Aires  once  a year  to  inspect  the  property 
and  to  hold  revel — a Directorial  joy-ride,  so  to  speak — 
in  the  place  that  once  was  his.  I do  not  know  what  a 
Director’s  reflections  are  on  these  occasions,  but  for 
myself,  walking  in  the  cool  of  his  deep-shaded  pleasance,  I 
offered  up  thanksgiving  and  praise  for  Hardy ; for  by  such 
men  has  the  Raj  been  builded,  and  when  their  breed  dies 
out  the  Raj  dies  with  them.  He  was  one  of  those  hard- 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


129 


bitten,  tenacious  men  that  Antrim  rears,  with  all  the  dogged 
obstinacy  of  the  Scotch  and  the  intelligence  of  the  Irish, 
whom  you  find  struggling  and  prospering  throughout  the 
seven  seas.  His  father  kept  a small  draper’s  shop  in 
Ballymena,  but  it  could  not  hold  the  wanderer  and  his 
dreams.  After  a spell  in  Australia,  he  came  to  Buenos 
Aires,  where  he  started  a small  dry  goods  store,  made 
money  selling  Belfast  linen,  and  married  a native  lady. 
Then  he  became  an  estanciero,  and  in  the  end  sold  his  shop 
and  fenced  lands  to  stake  his  whole  fortune  on  the  develop- 
ment of  the  sugar  and  tannin  business  in  the  wild  Chaco. 
It  took  a brave  man  to  create  this  oasis  of  industry  in 
the  heart  of  the  jungle,  but  he  did  it  and  the  results  have 
justified  his  courage. 

The  admixture  of  breeds  amongst  the  workers  in  the 
factory  is  extraordinary,  and  probably  unequalled  even 
in  Chicago.  The  bulk  of  the  labourers  are  native  Indians, 
but  the  “ Colonists,”  as  those  of  European  parentage  are 
called,  include  Italians,  Poles,  Germans,  Greeks,  Spaniards, 
Montenegrins,  Paraguayans,  Australians,  Frenchmen  and 
even  Finns.  Some  of  the  Australians  have  an  interesting 
past,  being  the  remnants  of  that  ill-fated  colony  of  com- 
munists which  came  from  Australia  to  take  up  free  grants 
of  land  and  to  create  Utopia  in  Paraguay  in  1893,  which 
hopeful  scheme  eventually  failed  because  the  honest  hard- 
working members  of  the  community  grew  weary  of  toiling 
for  the  benefit  of  their  loafer  brethren.  Three  or  four  of 
the  Frenchmen  came  from  Brittany,  and  had  brought  their 
famihes  with  them.  Why  any  Finns  should  ever  have 
elected  to  cast  their  lot  in  the  hottest  part  of  the  Argentine 
is  something  of  a mystery,  but  no  doubt  they,  like  other 
colonists,  are  attracted  hither  in  the  first  instance  by  the 
fact  that  the  terms  of  the  Company’s  charter  compel  it 

to  sell  or  lease  land  to  settlers  at  very  low  rates.  When 
K 


130  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

they  have  once  seen  the  land,  they  generally  prefer  the 
factory.  It  is  the  Italians  who  generally  take  most 
kindly  to  the  cultivation  of  this  rich  but  rough-hewn 
country;  many  of  them  rent  land  from  the  Company,  at 
a peso  per  hectario,  and  make  small  fortunes  out  of  sugar 
and  cattle. 

All  these  colonists  are  keen,  staunch  Argentines. 
Knight,  in  The  Cruise  of  the  Falcon,  refers  to  the  strange 
fascination  of  these  lotus-eating  lands  for  the  wandering 
mariner,  a lure  that  calls  and  keeps  them  to  the  end.  It 
is  the  caU  of  the  wild,  no  doubt,  added  to  the  attractions 
of  a land  where  food  is  easily  come  by,  and  woman  well- 
favoured,  soft-hearted  and  hard-working.  What  more, 
indeed,  could  a man  ask  ? Be  this  as  it  may,  there  is  no 
doubt  that,  with  the  exception  of  a few  Germans  who 
cling  steadfastly  to  memories  of  their  Vaterland,  all  this 
flotsam  and  jetsam  from  the  shores  of  Europe  is  being 
rapidly  and  consciously  amalgamated  into  a new  and 
sturdy  generation  of  Argentinos.  The  sons  of  an  English- 
man, born  here  of  a native  woman,  will  grow  up  without 
knowledge  of  the  Enghsh  tongue  and  no  desire  to  learn  it. 
In  the  colonists’  school  attached  to  the  factory  (there  is 
a separate  one  for  Indians)  the  cult  of  the  flag  is  a very 
sincere  and  serious  ceremony,  in  which  the  children  take 
intense  pride. 

The  intermarriage  of  colonists  with  native  Indian 
women  produces  a very  creditable  type  of  human  being, 
but  from  the  social  point  of  view  it  presents  certain 
undeniable  drawbacks.  Even  in  society  as  it  exists 
around  and  about  the  factory,  these  drawbacks  are  mani- 
fest ; in  fact,  the  more  isolated  the  community,  the  more 
conspicuous  their  results.  As  a good  many  colonists 
marry  native  ladies  of  humble  rank,  before  attaining 
to  the  dignity  of  a house  with  a tiled  roof  and  a salary. 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


131 


and  as  some  of  these  ladies’  relatives  remain  in  the  humble 
category  of  peons’  wives  and  daughters,  it  is  evidently 
difficult,  very  difficult,  to  draw  a satisfactory  line  of 
distinction  between  Indian  and  white  blood,  or  between 
wages  and  salaries.  Yet  here,  as  in  all  Spanish -American 
communities,  social  etiquette, nice  distinctions,  and  a severe 
code  of  decormn  are  supremely  important.  Thus  the 
giving  of  a haile  becomes  a very  serious,  formal  affair, 
involving  as  many  delicate  problems  as  a diplomatic 
function  in  Vienna.  To  draw  the  line  at  servants  is  not 
easy,  for,  after  all,  a sister  is  a sister,  even  though  she  be  a 
peon’s  wife.  Hence  many  heart-burnings  on  the  border 
line  of  society,  and  fittle  serpents  of  bitterness  in  the 
garden  of  good-fellowship. 

Assisting  at  the  opening  of  one  of  these  entertainments, 
as  solemnly  punctihous  as  a State  ball,  with  the  men  all 
stiffly  seated  on  one  side  of  the  room  and  the  women  on 
the  other,  I found  much  food  for  meditation  as  to  the 
strange  causes  and  results  of  the  peculiar  relations  between 
the  sexes  which  obtains  throughout  Latin  America. 
Looking  at  these  primly  decorous  males,  all  apparently 
willing  conformists  to  a conventional  code  of  manners  and 
morals,  and  knowing  something  of  their  natural  state  of 
body  and  mind,  the  explanation  would  seem  to  be  that 
for  these  latest  heirs  of  the  Conquistadores  there  are  two 
voices,  both  compelling  yet  conflicting,  which  call  them. 
One,  the  voice  of  old  Spain,  which  learned  from  the  Moors 
the  philosophy  and  social  code  of  the  East — this  is  the 
voice  which  inspires  his  attitude  towards  women,  his 
dislike  of  manual  labour,  his  panached  pride.  The  other 
is  the  voice  of  the  New  World,  of  that  ardent  spirit  of 
democracy  which  threw  oh  the  yoke  of  Spain;  it  is  this 
which  inspires  his  flamboyant  idealism,  his  turbulent  and 
revolutionary  restlessness.  And  between  these  two  voices. 


132  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


he  often  seems  to  stand  a little  bewildered,  ineffective, 
uncertain  of  his  ground. 

The  native  Indians  are,  as  a rule,  a hard-working  and 
peaceable  race,  as  they  were  in  the  days  of  the  old  Jesuit 
missions,  but  incurably  thriftless  and,  from  the  domestic 
point  of  view,  primitive ; more  or  less  promiscuous  in  their 
affections,  unsophisticated  mortals,  addicted,  under  the 
influence  of  love  and  cana,  to  swift  moods  of  passion. 
Their  wages  at  the  factory  are  from  $1.50  to  $2  a day, 
but  very  few  of  them  ever  save  any  money.  Pay  day, 
for  the  men,  means  a good  deal  of  drinking  and  quarrelling, 
and,  for  the  women,  lavish  purchases  at  the  factory  store. 
The  huts  and  houses  in  which  they  live,  some  close  to  the 
factory,  others  in  little  clearings  amidst  the  swamps  and 
woods  through  which  runs  the  Decauville  line,  are  incred- 
ibly dirty  and  untidy,  so  much  so  that  one  wonders  how 
the  women  who  inhabit  these  hovels  manage  to  turn 
themselves  out  as  decently  as  they  do.  In  some  of  the 
pueblos  far  up  the  line,  where  the  quebracho  workers  live, 
their  huts  are  such  flimsy  things  that  rain  and  wind  go 
right  through  them,  and  all  the  family’s  domestic  economy 
is  exposed  to  the  gaze  of  the  passer-by — a paper-covered 
trunk,  in  which  its  possessions  are  locked  up,  mosquito- 
curtained  camp-beds,  and  the  wash  hanging  up  to  dry. 
Their  working  hours  are  from  dawn  to  dusk,  either 
labouring  at  the  haulage  of  heavy  quebracho  logs  or  in  the 
malarial  mud  where  the  sugar-cane  grows.  As  these 
simple  folk  are  being  educated  and  can  already  read  the 
newspapers,  no  doubt  but  that  in  time  they  will  learn  to 
strike  for  a pound  a day  and  six  hours’  work — why  not  ? 
especially  as  war  has  sent  up  the  price  of  quebracho  tannin 
from  $6o  to  $240  a ton,  and  brought  no  little  wealth  to  the 
shareholders  in  Buenos  Aires,  who  pay  no  excess  profits. 
But  it  will  be  some  time  before  the  Indian  attains  to  the 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


133 


wisdom  of  Snowden,  Smillie  and  Co.,  and  meanwhile, 
judging  by  his  cheerful  demeanour,  he  seems  by  no  means 
discontented  with  the  world  of  things  as  they  are. 

Under  the  auspices  of  the  Argentine  Government, 
which  takes  an  intelligent  interest  in  matters  of  public 
health  and  education  even  in  these  remote  wilds,  the  factory 
at  Las  Palmas  provides  its  workers,  colonists  and  natives, 
with  a good  hospital,  schools,  benefit  of  clergy,  and  occa- 
sional recreation  in  the  form  of  dances  and  cinema 
shows.  A doctor  is  provided  by  the  Company;  there  is 
plenty  of  practice  for  him,  as  both  bubonic  plague 
and  leprosy  occur  in  this  district,  not  to  mention  snake- 
bites, malaria  and  a good  deal  of  pulmonary  sickness; 
but  at  the  time  of  my  visit,  the  last  incumbent  had  just 
left,  finding  the  place  either  too  dull  for  him,  or  too  hot. 
Opinions  differed  on  this  point ; at  any  rate,  he  must  have 
been  a bit  of  a blade  and  no  stickler  for  hygiene,  for  he  left 
his  quarters  in  a shocking  state  and  had  beguiled  his 
leisure  by  using  the  bath  and  water-jug  as  targets  for 
revolver  practice.  Nobody  in  the  hospital  seemed  to 
mind  his  going;  the  padron’s  good  Irish  wife  gave  the 
patients  all  the  care  they  wanted. 

Except  in  surgical  cases,  the  native  has  not  much  use 
for  a doctor ; he  prefers  his  own  old-wife  remedies,  most  of 
which  are  compounded  on  the  venerable  principle  that 
great  virtue  lies  in  all  things  outlandish  and  fantastic. 
They  cup  and  bleed,  of  course,  as  earnestly  as  our  own 
forefathers  did  in  the  good  old  days.  For  a burn  or 
wound,  they  rub  in  the  ashes  of  an  old  hat.  To  relieve 
internal  pains,  the  fat  off  a duck’s  back  is  applied  in  the 
form  of  a small  plaster  over  each  eye,  and  where  ducks  are 
not  procurable,  the  fat  of  an  alligator  will  serve.  Certain 
of  these  native  nostrums  are  popular,  not  only  in  these 
farther  pampas  and  savannahs,  but  throughout  all  the 


184  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


towns  and  “ camp  ” of  Argentine  and  Uruguay.  There  is, 
for  instance,  one  widely  prevalent  cure  for  quinsy;  you 
must  get  a Paraguayan  dog  and  spit  thrice  down  his 
throat.  The  same  unfortunate  animal  is  reputed  to  cure 
rheumatism  by  the  simple  contact  of  the  patient’s  feet 
against  his  back.  In  the  matter  of  domestic  animals’ 
ailments,  the  country  is  alive  with  sovereign  specifics, 
many  of  which  are  interesting  as  folk-lore.  To  cure  a 
horse  or  cow  of  maggots,  you  walk  the  beast  across  the 
corral  so  as  to  form  the  sign  of  the  cross;  then,  having 
got  a clear  impression  of  his  footprints,  you  cut  out  the  soil 
and  replace  it  backw'ards.  This  is  never  known  to  fail. 
For  a horse  suffering  from  stricture,  you  kill  a dog  and  hang 
its  head  on  to  the  patient’s  neck;  if  you  haven’t  got  a 
dead  dog,  the  string  from  a lady’s  petticoat  will  do. 

In  1916  the  factory  school  for  colonists’  children 
boasted  240  pupils  and  three  mistresses  (two  sisters  and 
a niece),  who  drew  good  salaries  from  the  Government. 
The  system  of  education,  including  instruction  in  the 
duties  of  citizenship  and  discipline,  seems  to  be  excellent, 
both  in  methods  and  results;  this  makes  it  all  the  more 
regrettable  that  the  authorities  have  so  far  done  nothing 
to  regulate  and  improve  the  type  of  Cinema  entertainment 
provided  for  these  highly  impressionable  people.  The 
Cinema  is  the  chief  amusement  of  these  workers  on  Sundays 
and  holidays,  but  the  films,  which  come  to  them  by  way  of 
Corrientes,  are  almost  all  either  of  the  sentimental-slushy 
or  the  “ mysteries  of  New  York  ” type,  the  kind  of  thing 
with  which  the  movie-makers  of  the  States  have  vitiated 
the  taste  and  falsified  the  imagination  of  five  continents. 
Even  these  untutored  peons  have  been  known  to  declare 
themselves  sick  and  weary  of  the  drawing-room  pruriency 
of  these  so-called  love  dreams,  with  their  everlasting  angel- 
child  and  their  Bowery  style  of  humour,  and  to  resent 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


135 


the  obscenity  of  other  films  which  are  specially  produced, 
it  seems,  for  Argentine  consumption.  But  if  this  be  so, 
one  asks  oneself  why  a government  which  takes  so  keen 
and  praiseworthy  an  interest  in  education  should  neglect 
the  obvious  opportunities  which  lie  ready  to  their  hand  in 
using  the  Cinema  for  purposes  of  rational  recreation  and 
instruction?  The  way  the  United  States  Government 
have  lately  been  using  it  for  purposes  of  pohtical  propa- 
ganda in  South  America,  affords  an  object  lesson  that  any 
Minister  of  Education  should  be  able  to  appreciate. 

The  business  of  the  Church  amongst  these  colonists 
seems  chiefly  confined  to  christenings,  marriages  and 
burials;  attendance  at  Sunday  Mass  is  desultory  and 
confers  little  or  no  social  distinction.  The  padre’s  appear- 
ance and  deportment  were  not  those  of  the  Church  mili- 
tant; they  suggested  rather  cheerful  acquiescence  in  the 
lot  of  the  lotus-eater,  slightly  handicapped  by  the  routine 
of  professional  duties.  These  also  he  took  lightly : on 
the  occasion  of  my  one  attendance  at  Mass  (there  was  a 
total  congregation  of  three)  his  reverence  scamped  the 
service  with  a casual  jauntiness  that  brought  to  mind  the 
ministrations  of  the  uxorious  priests  of  little  Russian 
villages.  Of  course  familiarity  breeds  contempt,  but 
desinvolture  may  be  overdone,  and  when  he  stopped 
suddenly  in  the  middle  of  the  Credo  to  spit,  with  great 
force  and  accuracy,  at  the  wall  behind  the  altar,  I decided 
to  conclude  my  devotions  in  the  open  air.  For  the  benefit 
of  such  Protestants  as  are  to  be  found  among  the  colonists, 
there  are  occasional  visitations  by  the  Enghsh  bishop, 
whose  services — in  full  canonicals — are  requisitioned  for 
baptisms  en  bloc. 

The  Chaco  is  not  a province  of  Argentine,  but  “ national 
territory.”  It  is  therefore  possessed  of  a Governor — that 
is  to  say,  its  affairs  are  generally  controlled  by  one  who 


136  MEN,  ]\IANNERS  AND  IMORALS 


has  achieved  distinction  in  the  pursuit  of  politics.  Judging 
by  the  conversation  of  politicians  and  officials,  the  chief 
business  of  the  authorities  hereabouts  consists  in  collecting 
revenue,  preserving  order  tani  bien  que  mal,  and  checking 
the  exuberant  activities  of  smugglers  from  across  the 
river  Paraguay.  Every  now  and  then.  His  Excellence 
makes  a progress  through  the  territory,  to  visit  the  sources 
of  revenue  production,  including  the  factory  at  Las  Palmas. 
He  travels  in  state,  with  a considerable  following  of 
retainers,  cheerfully  pleasant  people  to  meet,  but  generally 
so  dirty  and  untidy  in  their  habits  that,  on  their  passing, 
nothing  less  than  a vacurun  cleaner  can  restore  the  situa- 
tion. As  permanent  representative  of  the  majesty  of  the 
law,  the  State  maintains  a Comisario  of  Police  at  the 
factory,  in  command  of  fourteen  sword-bearing  siesta 
experts.  The  Company  is  not  supposed  to  pay  the  police, 
but  in  the  Chaco,  as  in  other  parts  of  the  Argentine  and  in 
Uruguay,  experience  tends  to  confirm  the  belief  that 
cattle-lifting,  larceny,  removal  of  landmarks  and  other 
forms  of  crime  are  more  prevalent  in  districts  where  the 
Comisario  receives  no  douceur  from  the  landowner  or 
emprensa,  than  in  those  which  provide  inducements  for 
the  display  of  his.  professional  activities.  The  Comisario 
is  a very  important  personage  in  “ camp  ” life — often  a 
picturesque  and  gallant  fellow,  sometimes  a sorry,  scurvy 
rogue — and  the  character  of  the  man  generally  reflects, 
in  parvo,  the  tendencies  and  moral  of  the  government 
actually  in  power.  Here,  in  the  Chaco,  any  officer  who 
chooses  to  turn  a blind  e}^e  to  the  boat  traffic  from  the 
Paraguayan  bank  of  the  river  can  amass  a modest  com- 
petence without  undue  exertion.  Even  with  the  best  of 
intentions,  it  must  be  extremely  difficult  to  devise  any 
effective  check  to  the  operations  of  the  Paraguayan 
bolicheras  whose  runners,  in  the  guise  of  simple  fisher- 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


137 


folk  and  orange-sellers,  do  a steady  business  in  cana  and 
the  black  cigars  which  the  women  smoke.  A good  deal 
of  the  smuggling  is  done  by  women,  relying  upon  the  sex 
taboo  to  protect  them  from  the  hands  of  strange  men  : 
they  carry  cana  in  sausage  skins,  artfully  coiled  in  coigns 
of  vantage  about  their  persons.  For  such  cases,  suspicion 
being  justified  by  the  size  or  shape  of  the  alleged  orange 
vendor,  an  ingenious  protector  of  the  revenue  once  devised 
the  simple  though  risky  expedient  of  deftly  pricking  the 
protuberance  with  a bare  bodkin,  whereupon,  so  to  speak, 
the  lady’s  spirit  forsook  her.  But  in  these  sparsely 
inhabited  regions  of  immense  distances,  the  smuggler’s 
opportunities  are  poor  at  best,  and  the  cost  of  the  pre- 
ventive service  must  be  far  greater  than  the  utmost 
figure  of  the  revenue  it  can  save ; so  that,  apart  from  the 
pleasurable  excitement  which  it  affords,  the  whole  business, 
economically  speaking,  is  foolish  and  futile.  On  the 
morning  that  I left  Las  Palmas  for  Asuncion,  after  a night 
of  howling  tormento  and  torrential  rain,  I saw  in  the 
damp  and  dismal  dawn,  a pitiful  group  of  five  of  these 
contrabandists,  making  their  mate  over  a spluttering  fire 
by  the  edge  of  a little  wood,  where  they  had  probably 
slept.  Two  of  them  were  women,  by  no  means  ill-favoured 
but  wretchedly  clad  and  shivering  (the  temperature  had 
fallen  in  a few  hours  from  95  to  78  degrees,  with  the  south 
wind),  and  I wondered,  as  I watched  them  preparing  their 
scanty  meal,  what  possible  compensation  can  existence 
offer  for  all  its  vexations  to  poor  devils  like  these  ? Their 
boat,  a ramshackle  thing,  lay  moored  close  by,  and,  as  a 
guarantee  of  good  faith,  no  doubt,  they  had  spread  a few 
hundred  oranges — three  or  four  shillings’  worth — to  dry 
upon  the  bank.  One  of  them,  a mere  lad,  was  listlessly 
casting  a long  single-hook  line  into  the  stream,  more  from 
force  of  habit,  it  seemed,  than  in  the  hope  of  catching 


138  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


anything  but  a cold.  The  trade  of  the  gallant  handillero 
seemed  a poor  business. 

Though  wild  and  often  desolate  in  its  swampier  parts 
the  Chaco  region  is  very  beautiful,  with  an  insidious 
beauty  that  grips  and  holds  you.  There  is  magic  in  the 
loneliness,  the  untamed  virginity  of  the  silent  places. 
Even  in  the  clearings  of  man’s  handiwork.  Nature  com- 
mands respect;  you  feel  that  his  intrusion  is  a piece  of 
presumption.  Let  him  but  cease  to  toil  for  a brief  season 
and  all  his  landmarks  are  swiftly  submerged.  The  water- 
logged condition  of  the  country,  unpleasantly  conspicuous 
in  the  rainy  season,  is  due  to  the  presence  of  a thick  layer 
* of  hard  clay  just  below  the  surface;  the  least  heavy 
rain  means  more  water  on  the  surface  than  the  rivers  can 
readily  carry  off.  Mother  Earth  hereabouts  consists,  in 
fact,  of  non-porous  clay,  with  a top  dressing  of  vegetable 
matter;  you  will  not  see  a stone  in  a day’s  march.  It  is 
an  ideal  breeding-ground  for  mosquitoes;  nowhere  on 
earth,  not  even  in  Siberia,  does  this  malignant  httle 
beast  attain  to  such  fierce  energy,  size  and  voracity.  In 
the  higher  and  drier  patches  of  country,  where  the  cattle 
are  bred  (large  herds,  used  almost  exclusively  for  home 
consumption) , the  grass  grows  so  thick  and  high  that  the 
biggest  pointer  dog  gets  lost  in  it.  There  is  fair  shooting 
to  be  had  on  these  pasto  lands — the  smaller  partridge  of 
the  country  and  the  martinetta  {Rhynchotus  rufescus), 
about  the  size  of  a hen  pheasant.  This  latter  bird,  being 
hopelessly  stupid  and  good  to  eat,  is  bound  to  disappear 
completely  from  the  cultivated  districts  (as  most  of  the 
Itahan  labourers  have  a gun  for  pot  hunting  purposes), 
just  as  it  has  disappeared  elsewhere.  The  best  way  to 
shoot  them  in  the  Chaco  is  from  the  back  of  a well-broken 
horse,  with  mounted  peons  on  either  side  to  serve  as 
beaters.  The  birds  are  easily  flushed  and  as  a rule  do  not 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


139 


fly  far,  but  it  is  not  easy  to  find  and  get  them  up  a second 
time.  Nor  is  it  easy  to  hold  your  reins  in  one  hand  and  a 
gun  in  the  other  when  mosquitoes,  with  a proboscis  like 
a small  needle,  are  making  holes  in  your  face  and  drawing 
blood  all  the  time. 

The  variety  of  bird  life  is  astonishing,  reminding  one 
of  the  descriptions  which  old  rancheros  give  of  the  wild 
birds  that  used  to  make  the  lagoons  melodious  and  beauti- 
ful in  Uruguay,  before  the  damnable  devices  of  the  feather 
hunters  slew  them  to  make  a shopgirl’s  holiday.  Even 
here  in  the  Chaco  the  milhners’  murderers  and  their 
agents  are  not  unknown,  but,  heaven  be  praised ! there 
are  still  impenetrable  fastnesses,  at  the  heart  of  the  great 
rivers  and  lakes,  where  egrets,  flamingoes  and  herons 
may  live  undisturbed  and  dance  in  the  sun.  Nearer  to 
the  haunts  of  men  the  toucan  may  be  seen  in  top-heavy 
flight;  in  a day’s  walk  I saw  three  beautiful  kinds  of 
shrike,  including  the  ubiquitous  bien-te-veo,  kingfishers, 
humming-birds,  parrots,  oven-birds,  hawks,  eagles  and 
caranchos  {Polyborus  Tharus),  in  great  numbers.  Song 
birds  are  many  and  tuneful;  to  hear  the  choir  invisible 
that  comes  from  a gathering  of  warblers  in  some  tala 
thicket,  or  close-leafed  flowering  tree,  is  a joy  for  ever. 
The  complaining  note  of  the  restless  teru-teru  (lapwing) , 
though  somewhat  less  strident  here  than  farther  south, 
becomes  a weariness  to  the  flesh,  because  of  its  unceasing 
reiteration.  This  enfant  gate  among  birds,  protected  by 
colonists  and  natives  ahke  because  of  a superstition  which 
defies  time  and  civilisation,  has  waxed  exceedingly  bold 
in  South  America  by  reason  of  his  immunity  from  the 
risks  that  beset  other  edible  fowl;  if  it  were  not  for  the 
fortunate  fact  that  plovers’  eggs  are  as  popular  with 
peons  as  they  are  with  plutocrats,  their  numbers  would 
long  since  have  darkened  the  heavens.  As  it  is,  giving 


140  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


him  all  the  benefit  of  his  reputation  as  a watch-dog,  I find 
the  teru-teru  something  of  a nuisance,  and  his  peevish 
cry  an  irritant,  as  I take  my  walks  abroad  and  he  darts 
screaming  mthin  a few  feet  of  my  head. 

From  Las  Palmas,  past  the  mouth  of  the  river  Bermejo, 
that  flows  through  vast  wildernesses  unexplored,  past 
Formosa,  capital  of  the  “ territory,”  through  endless 
shoals  and  sandbanks,  the  river-boat  will  bring  you  in  a 
day  to  Asun9ion,  chief  city  of  the  Republic  of  Paraguay. 


CHAPTER  VIII 


THE  DELECTABLE  CITY  OF  ASUNCION 

A FEW  days  in  Asun9ion  will  serve  as  an  excellent 
corrective  to  the  feverish  delusions  of  the  West,  if  indeed 
any  of  them  should  have  clung  to  us  thus  far.  Unless 
one  is  a buyer  or  a seller,  or  (worse  still)  a debt  collector, 
body  and  soul  become  quickly  attuned  to  the  languidly 
contemplative  atmosphere  of  the  place.  Life  is  short,  you 
say  ? Alas,  Senor,  how  true  ! But  why  make  it  also 
uncomfortable?  So  few  things  are  worth  the  trouble  of 
haste ; love  and  war,  perhaps,  but  certainly  neither 
business,  nor  religion,  nor  the  pomps  and  vanities  of  pohte 
society.  Here,  in  Asun9ion,  as  far  as  the  male  population 
is  concerned,  it  is  nearly  always  afternoon,  and  the  dis- 
cussion of  politics  is  ever  their  chief  occupation.  Here, 
as  in  Lisbon,  Constantinople  or  Peking,  and  for  precisely 
similar  reasons,  every  enfranchised  citizen  is  first  and 
foremost  the  henchman  of  one  or  other  of  the  ever-warring 
pohtical  factions;  leaders  and  led  conspiring  together  to 
prey  upon  productive  industry  of  every  kind.  The  bureau- 
crat is  all  in  all,  revelling  amidst  the  chaos  of  national 
bankruptcy,  in  the  make-beheve  world  of  his  own  bom- 
bastic rhetoric,  thumping  his  empty  tub,  and  loudly 
proclaiming  the  ultimate  triumph  of  that  creed  which, 
on  our  own  side  of  the  world,  offers  to  every  citizen 
“ ninepence  for  fourpence  ” in  return  for  his  vote. 

Between  i88i  and  1909  Asun9ion  has  achieved  and 
enjoyed  six  separate  revolutions,  each  of  which  was  elo- 
quently proclaimed  at  its  birth  as  an  epoch-making  crisis 

141 


142  MEN,  INIANNERS  AND  MORALS 


in  the  history  of  civilisation.  Truly,  as  a sober  Spanish 
chronicler  declared  long  ago,  “ the  people  of  Asuncion 
only  cease  from  political  strife  when  a breathing  space 
becomes  absolutely  necessary.”  Mr.  Cimninghame  Gra- 
hame  puts  it  even  more  forcibly  when  he  says  : ” Even  the 
over-praised  citizens  of  Athens,  at  the  time  of  Pericles, 
were  not  more  instant  in  the  Agora,  than  the  noisy  mob 
of  half-bred  patriots,  who  in  the  sandy  streets  of  Asuncion 
were  ever  agitating,  always  assembhng,  and  doing  every- 
thing within  their  power  to  show  to  the  world  the  perfect 
picture  of  a democratic  State.”  Alas  for  the  Jesuits  and 
their  splendid  dream  of  an  Arcadia  governed  by  benevolent 
wisdom  for  the  peaceful  welfare  of  the  commonwealth  ! 

As  the  ship  comes  slowly  to  her  moorings  at  the  Asuncion 
Customs  Wharf,  all  the  sights  and  sounds  of  the  harbour 
and  its  approaches  combine  to  produce  the  impression  of 
time  hanging  gracefully  on  hstless  hands.  Over  yonder, 
across  the  river,  stands  the  unconquered  wilderness  of  the 
Chaco,  a perpetual  reminder  of  the  futihty  of  strugghng 
against  destiny.  On  this  side,  many  of  the  buildings 
that  straggle  down  the  foothills  to  the  water-side  bear 
witness  to  the  relentless  ravages  of  tropical  vegetation. 
Here  a mill  is  gradually  crumbling  to  picturesque  decay, 
forlornly  patched  and  propped ; there  in  a deserted 
clearing,  a few  orange  trees  stand  hke  derehcts  above  the 
tangled  undergrowth.  The  Customs  Wharf  itself  is  far 
gone  in  dilapidation,  one  of  its  main  beams  swinging 
limply  ’twixt  wind  and  water.  In  the  harbour,  old  hulks, 
tugs  and  strange  obsolete  craft  lie  intermingled  with  the 
able-bodied  ships  in  various  stages  of  raggedness. 

The  navy  of  the  Republic,  consisting  chiefly  of  an  ancient 
colher,  converted  to  purposes  of  war  by  means  of  a conning- 
tower  and  sundry  guns,  lies  over  against  the  dilapidated 
House  of  Congress.  There  being  no  revolution  in  progress 


THE  WHAEF  AT  ASUNCION,  PARAGUAY  NATIVE  INDIAN  DWELLINGS,  PARAGUAY 


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IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


143 


at  the  moment,  her  customary  business  of  bombarding,  or 
preparing  to  bombard,  the  city’s  public  buildings  is 
happily  in  abeyance;  one  of  her  boat’s  crews,  gaily 
apparelled,  is  conveying  a party  of  ladies  to  the  shore. 
In  the  shallows  beneath  the  barracks  a troop  of  cavalry 
horses  are  being  bathed;  their  riders  greet  the  rowers  of 
the  ladies’  boat  with  ribaldries  of  a raciness  at  which 
Sancho  Panza  would  have  blushed. 

The  wharf  is  thronged;  apparently  all  the  friends  of 
all  the  passengers  and  crew  are  there,  every  lace  vendor  and 
fruit  pedlar  in  the  town,  every  idle  citizen  in  search  of 
diversion  or  down-river  news,  not  to  mention  the  usual 
noisy  crowd  of  chanqadores  and  cab-drivers,  intent  on 
their  legitimate  business  of  transport.  These  begin 
bargaining  with  the  passengers  at  long  range ; the  tumult 
and  the  shouting  remind  one  of  a landing  at  Port  Said  or 
Canton.  The  stranger,  marked  down  as  rich  and  easy 
prey,  becomes  the  suffering  centre  of  a cyclonic  turmoil 
of  words.  The  chanqador  class  prides  itself  professionally 
on  its  eloquence,  diverted  in  these  its  rare  moments  of 
labour  from  the  serious  business  of  pohtics.  Was  not 
the  Sefior  Presidente  of  the  Repubhc  a Customs  runner 
in  his  youth  ? The  man  who  carries  your  trunk  from  the 
wharf  to  the  picturesque  ruin  of  a cab,  and  consigns  you 
to  the  hotel  of  his  selection,  may  very  possibly  confront 
you  next  year  as  a dignitary  of  the  State. 

The  sturdy  vociferous  rogue  who  secured  my  unresisting 
person  was  known  to  his  friends  and  fellow-politicians  as 
El  Gordo  (Anglice,  Fatty).  He  subsequently  proved  to 
be  not  only  a man  of  weight  in  the  community,  but 
possessed  of  a fund  of  information,  and  a hvely  sense  of 
humour.  His  manner  in  levying  tribute  was  such  an 
effective  combination  of  the  hidalgo  and  the  highwayman, 
that  remonstrance  would  have  been  absurd ; but  he  atoned 


144  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


for  this  by  firmly  insisting  that,  appearances  to  the  con- 
trary notwithstanding,  the  only  proper  abiding-place  for 
a Caballero  in  Asuncion  is  the  Hotel  St.  Pierre.  For  this, 
O Gordo,  may  you  attain  to  your  heart’s  desire  and 
become  a Comisario  of  Police  at  the  next  revolution  ! 

In  June  (which  is  her  winter)  Asun9ion,  city  of  gardens 
and  orange  groves  set  upon  a httle  hiU,  usually  welcomes 
the  traveller  with  genial  sunshine;  but  when  the  wind 
blows  from  the  south,  there  is  a little  nipping  in  the  air, 
which  makes  the  peon  to  shiver  in  his  cotton  shirt  and  the 
market  women  to  tuck  their  mantas  more  closely  about 
them.  There  is  an  elusive,  elemental  charm  about  the 
place,  which  grows  upon  you  irresistibly,  despite  all 
prejudices  and  premonitions;  a subtle  influence,  born  of 
the  visions  of  old  Moorish  Spain,  that  greet  you  fleetingly 
at  every  street  comer,  straggling  against  the  flamboyant 
democracy  of  ultra  modernity  on  the  one  hand,  and  the 
tutelary  spirits  of  a primordial  race  on  the  other.  Even 
in  the  picturesque  ruins  that  mark  the  tracks  of  recent 
revolutions,  in  the  perverse  poverty  of  these  dwellers  in 
a land  which  Nature  meant  to  flow  wdth  milk  and  honey, 
there  is  something  that  instinctively  evokes  the  philosophic 
contemplative  mood. 

Green  grows  the  grass  in  the  streets  of  Asuncion,  even 
unto  the  ballast  of  the  tram  lines.  Their  pavement  is 
of  unhewn  stones,  loosely  embedded  in  the  loess  mud,  so 
that  in  wet  weather  the  mules  go  stohdly  splashing 
through  ruts  and  holes,  where  the  pea-soup  water  will  lie 
for  days.  The  city  boasts  neither  drainage  system  nor 
waterworks.  If  you  would  study  its  main  artery  of 
commerce  and  methods  of  business,  go  down  to  the  Calle 
Montevideo,  hard  by  the  Custom  House,  where  at  the 
water  front  ships  and  lighters  discharge  their  cargoes 
into  loud-creaking  carts  that  look  as  if  they  had  seen 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


145 


service  under  De  Solis.  A narrow  way  this,  cut  by  the 
heavy  traffic  to  a chaos  of  deep  ruts  and  mounds,  where 
the  mules  (six  or  seven  to  a cart)  flounder  and  strain  at 
the  traces  and  their  drivers  call  heaven  and  heU  to  witness 
their  affliction,  in  seas  of  mud  or  clouds  of  dust,  as  the 
sorry  case  may  be.  In  the  absence  of  pontoons,  the 
carts  must  perforce  go  far  out  into  the  river,  where  the 
water  comes  up  to  the  mules’  shoulders.  Even  thus, 
no  doubt,  they  handled  the  city’s  commerce  two  hundred 
years  ago. 

Go  next  to  the  House  of  Congress,  where  a battered 
shield,  inscribed  with  the  Repubhc’s  motto,  “ Paz  y 
Justicia,”  looks  down  on  mildewed  walls  all  bespattered 
by  revolutionary  shot  and  shell.  The  building  stands 
open  to  the  winds  of  heaven ; inside,  the  bureaucracy  is 
represented  by  a couple  of  weary  warders  and  a slouchy 
youth,  guardian  of  a mouldy  collection  of  blue-books, 
which  calls  itself  the  Biblioteca  Nacional.  A door  has 
been  removed  bodily  from  one  of  the  side  entrances, 
revealing  a winding  stairway  within,  which  leads  to  the 
upper  floor,  where,  on  occasions,  the  Conscript  Fathers 
forgather.  At  its  foot,  an  emaciated  dog  hes  sleeping 
on  a tattered  fragment  of  matting.  Over  the  way,  across 
the  Plaza,  stands  the  Theatre,  also  partially  destroyed 
by  gun-fire  in  the  sacred  cause  of  Paz  y Justicia.  The 
square  is  nearly  deserted  this  afternoon,  because  of  the 
cold  wind;  but  the  town  band,  evidently  trained  by 
German  methods,  is  discoursing  Puccini  for  the  benefit 
of  a few  children  at  play  amongst  the  ragged  flower-beds. 
A cavalry  officer,  in  war-paint  imported  from  the  Father- 
land,  stands  kiUing  time  at  the  entrance  to  the  barracks. 
In  a little  while  he  will  go,  clanking  his  spurs,  up  Florida 
Street  to  the  Club,  where  the  ehte  forgather  to  talk 

politics  after  the  siesta. 

L 


146  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

At  the  end  of  the  Plaza,  near  to  the  Cathedral,  there 
stands  a monument,  of  the  curiously  ineffective  kind  that 
one  finds  occasionally  in  the  Plazas  Independencia  and 
Avenidas  de  Mayo  from  Panama  to  Paraguay,  with  a 
nondescript  angel  on  top  and  electric  hghts  festooned  all 
over  it.  'Tis  a sermon  in  stone  for  the  moralist  and 
philosopher;  for  on  this  pillar,  amidst  the  record  of  the 
proudest  dates  in  the  career  of  “ Paz  y Justicia,”  you  will 
find  the  recent  marks  of  rifle  fire  and  light  artillery. 
The  city,  it  tells  you,  was  founded  in  1536 ; it  heard  the 
first  small  voice  {grito)  of  Liberty  in  1811 ; the  Constitution 
was  proclaimed  in  1870,  etc.,  etc.  But  it  makes  no 
mention  of  the  crowning  achievement  of  Liberty,  as 
understood  by  the  Francia-Lopez  breed  of  pohticians. 
It  does  not  tell  you  that  in  the  Homeric  struggle  of 
Paraguay  against  Argentina,  Uruguay  and  Brazil  (1865- 
70)  every  male  capable  of  bearing  arms  was  driven  to  the 
slaughter;  that  the  coimtry  went  to  war  with  a popula- 
tion of  1,340,000  and  came  out  of  it  with  220,000,  of  whom 
only  28,746  were  men.  Yet  this  is  the  overpowering  fact 
in  the  history  of  Paraguay,  the  results  of  which  confront 
us  to-day  in  every  phase  and  aspect  of  her  social,  economic 
and  political  life. 

The  present  condition  of  the  Republic  is  fairly  reflected 
in  its  currency,  which  consists  entirely  of  greasy  paper. 
The  Paraguayan  dollar  {peso  fuerte)  is  worth,  as  I have 
said,  between  three  and  four  cents  gold,  as  times  go; 
the  average  peon  labourer  earns  ten  of  these  dollars  (say 
eighteenpence)  a day.  The  bare  necessities  of  life,  in- 
cluding house-rent,  are  fairly  cheap,  but  everything  in 
the  way  of  imported  or  manufactured  goods  is  extremely 
dear.  Boots,  for  example,  are  beyond  the  means  of  the 
working  class;  so  that  men,  women  and  children,  every 
one  except  politicians  and  policemen,  go  barefoot.  Eggs 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


147 


cost  fifteen  dollars  a dozen,  a ride  in  a tram  one  dollar. 
Even  largesse  to  a beggar  or  a bootblack  must  take  the 
form  of  a bank-note.  Every  Indian  market  woman,  in 
exchange  for  her  fowls  and  fish  and  fruit,  goes  home  with 
a thick  wad  of  this  paper-money,  to  which  each  day’s 
use  adds  increase  of  ragged  greasiness.  The  lowest  note 
value  is  fifty  centavos — roughly  three  farthings;  and 
for  the  printing  of  these,  mark  you,  the  Government  has 
gone  to  the  American  Bank-note  Company  of  New  York 
and  acquired  a very  creditable  specimen  of  steel  engraving. 
It  has  certainly  never  occurred  to  any  market-women 
(and  probably  not  to  the  Conscript  Fathers)  to  inquire 
what  proportion  the  cost  of  printing  bears  to  the  face  value 
of  these  scraps  of  paper,  or  to  trace  the  connection  between 
this  sort  of  frenzied  finance  and  the  chronic  insolvency  of 
the  Treasury.  Such  things  are  nobody’s  business.  The 
little  groups  of  gesticulating  citizens  that  discuss  politics 
with  such  eloquent  fervour  on  the  side-walks,  allot  their 
praise  or  blame  to  pubhc  men  entirely  by  results,  measured 
in  terms  of  loaves  and  fishes.  The  lower  the  nation’s 
credit,  the  more  prolific  the  Treasury  with  its  paper,  a 
phenomenon  by  no  means  confined  to  Paraguay. 

In  a community  where  the  “ emerged  tenth  ” looks 
frankly  to  the  State  to  be  maintained  in  dignified  ease 
from  the  public  funds,  it  were  churhsh  to  reproach  the 
general  body  of  citizens  either  for  their  habits  of  cheerful 
indolence  and  improvidence,  or  for  their  destructive 
methods  of  remonstrating  with  Providence  and  the 
politicians,  when  there  are  not  loaves  and  fishes  to  go 
round.  But,  to  give  him  his  due,  your  Paraguayan, 
even  when,  wrathful  against  the  words  and  works  of  public 
men,  he  sets  out  to  wreck  pubhc  buildings,  retains  the 
manners  of  a gentleman  and  a certain  philosophic  quality 
of  urbanity.  I think  it  is  chiefly  this  quahty  of  the  peon 


148  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


class,  together  with  his  complete  lack  of  snobbery,  which 
gradually  compels  you  to  a sneaking  sympathy  with  his 
primordial  point  of  view,  even  though  he  may  treat  his 
women  as  beasts  of  burden  and  pawn  his  thirsty  soul  for 
cana.  As  you  saunter  through  the  silent  streets  of  the 
sleeping  town  at  midday  (it  takes  its  siesta  from  ii  to 
2.30,  be  the  weather  hot  or  cold),  insensibly  the  earnestness 
of  all  our  hustling,  busthng  civihsation,  our  cult  of 
machinery  and  Mammon,  fade  to  their  proper  insignifi- 
cance, and  this  people  is  almost  justified,  if  only  because 
its  individual  soul  (for  what  it  may  be  worth)  is  still  its 
own.  In  such  an  atmosphere  it  is  impossible  to  maintain 
firmly  protestant  moods  of  moral  superiority.  Easier 
far,  and  possibly  wiser,  to  let  oneself  drift  unprotesting, 
on  the  placid  tide  of  mahana  and  mas  6 menos. 

This  facile  descent,  this  process  of  adaptation  to 
emuronment,  is  generally  rapid,  but  it  is  rarely  complete. 
New  Yorkers  never  attain  to  it,  and  Frenchmen  seldom. 
Irishmen  achieve  it  best,  especially  in  the  life  of  the 
“ camp,”  because  there  is  something  imperturbably  human 
in  the  philosophy  of  the  Celt,  which  enables  him  to 
sympathise  with  his  primordial  Paraguayan  brother,  and 
also  because  he  himself  has  never  wittingly  yielded  to  the 
tyranny  of  the  Time  machine. 

My  French  host  of  the  Hotel  St.  Pierre,  whither  El 
Gordo  conducted  me,  has  chosen  a profession  in  which 
even  the  most  tolerant  of  men  must  find  it  hard  to  accept 
the  manners  and  customs  of  Paraguay.  Monsieur  St. 
Pierre  has  certainly  not  accepted  them,  though  he  came 
here  thirty  years  ago.  You  get  an  inkhng  of  his  views 
from  the  fact  that  the  front  door  of  the  hotel  is  kept 
constantly  locked,  and  every  guest  provided  with  a latch- 
key— “ a cause  des  mouches,  des  voleurs  et  des  crachats,” 
as  he  is  careful  to  explain.  What  with  the  war,  and  the 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


149 


depreciation  of  currency  in  this  country,  and  the  increasing 
price  of  commodities,  no  wonder  if  mine  host  and  his  wife 
long  for  the  Normandy  of  their  youth,  and  have  but  httle 
good  to  say  of  a land  where  a bottle  of  good  Medoc  is 
reckoned  at  112  fesos  fuertes.  In  his  little  bureau, 
lavishly  decorated  with  the  “ Illustration’s  ” portraits  of 
French  Generals,  “ Monsieur  I’Empereur  ” (as  his  local 
title  goes)  will  hold  forth  by  the  hour  against  the  bribery 
and  corruption,  the  drunkenness  and  dishonesty  and  dirt 
of  Asun9ion,  the  incorrigible  laziness  and  promiscuous 
morals  of  its  people.  Philosophy  is  clearly  beyond  the 
reach  of  a hotel-keeper  in  this  land,  unless  he  and  his 
guests  are  willing  to  abolish  clocks  and  all  other  devices 
for  defeating  the  leisurely  instincts  of  the  Paraguayan. 
For  a Frenchman  who  believes  in  savoury  meals,  cooked 
and  eaten  d point,  the  mas  6 menos  attitude  towards  life 
is  bound  to  generate  deadly  wrath-matter  in  the  system. 
And  yet,  for  all  his  denunciations,  mine  host  and  his  staff 
are  the  best  of  friends;  evidently  his  dishke  of  Para- 
guayan institutions  descends  not  from  the  general  to  the 
particular  in  the  case  of  the  hijo  del  pais,  as  it  does  in  the 
case  of  the  German. 

Here  no  German  need  apply.  At  no  time  welcomed, 
they  have  been  firmly  and  finally  excluded  from  the  Hotel 
St.  Pierre  since  the  war.  There  are  plenty  of  them  in 
Asuncion  and  at  Lake  San  Bernadino  close  by,  but 
Madame’s  cuisine  recherche  is  not  for  them,  even  as 
transients.  If,  being  an  Enghshman,  you  should  happen 
also  to  be  corpulent  and  guttural  and  goggled  (which 
Heaven  forbid),  you  must  prove  to  mine  host’s  satisfaction 
that  you  are  not  of  the  abhorred  race.  Similarly,  if 
you  come  as  a single  lady,  you  must  satisfy  him  of 
your  respectabihty,  and  in  the  absence  of  evidence, 
he  is  apt  to  judge  swiftly  by  appearances.  These  little 


150  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


ways  of  his  have,  no  doubt,  a good  deal  to  do  with  the 
phenomenon  of  the  locked  front  door.  “ Better  an 
empty  room  than  an  undesirable  guest,”  says  I’Empereur. 
As  a moral  sentiment,  unimpeachable,  but  as  a maxim 
for  hotel  management,  hard  to  carry  into  lucrative 
practice. 

In  the  third  year  of  the  war,  the  German  in  these  parts 
walked  delicately,  a very  different  creature  from  the 
boastful  bully  that  stmtted  and  gave  himself  all-conquering 
airs  in  the  bad  days  before  the  battle  of  the  Marne,  and 
again,  for  a little  while,  before  the  battle  of  the  Falklands. 
Now,  from  Pernambuco  to  Patagonia,  even  in  places 
where  German  Kultur  and  the  credit  system  have  planted 
the  Pickelhaiibe  : even  where  local  governments  and  Press 
unite  to  assure  the  Teuton  of  a neutrality  that  is  nothing 
if  not  prudent,  Hans  and  Fritz  move  humbly  and  wear  a 
chastened  mien.  For,  let  diplomacy  and  high  finance 
do  what  they  vail,  the  German  has  become  painfully 
aware  of  the  fact  that  France  is  the  spiritual  home  of  the 
Latin  Republics  of  South  America,  and  that,  in  the  day  of 
France  triumphant,  the  sons  of  the  Fatherland  do  well 
to  keep  quiet.  Fven  in  south-eastern  Brazil  they  are 
bidding  a long  farewell  to  all  their  dreams  of  a new 
Fatherland  overseas,  that  should  stretch  southwards  to 
the  River  Plate.  Not  as  rulers,  but  as  strangers,  must 
they  continue  to  dwell  in  these  lands;  and  as  strangers 
for  many  years  to  come,  they  will  have  to  live  do^vn  the 
infamies  that  have  disgraced  their  nation  in  the  eyes  of 
every  self-respecting  peon.  Indeed,  as  matters  stand 
since  Germany’s  defeat,  it  looks  as  if  the  only  sympathy 
and  support  that  IMessrs.  Meyer  and  Schultz  will  get  in  the 
future,  is  likely  to  come  (as  it  came  steadily,  all  through 
the  war)  from  their  good  and  faithful  friends  in  England — 
from  Manchester  and  Bradford  and  the  Union  of  Demo' 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA  151 

cratic  Control,  from  sentimental  fools  in  government  offices 
and  rogues  of  the  sleek  cosmopolitan  breed. 

Here,  in  Paraguay,  as  late  as  June  1916,  a large  propor- 
tion of  the  trade  in  Manchester  and  other  British  goods 
was  still  handled  by  Germans.  It  seems  incredible  that, 
after  two  years  of  war,  British  goods,  carried  in  British 
ships,  should  have  been  consigned  to  Germans  over- 
seas; but  the  fact  remains,  and  this  despite  the  repeated 
warnings  and  protests  of  British  Ministers  and  merchants 
on  the  spot.  It  seems  incredible,  I say,  that  having  driven 
the  German  from  the  seas  and  having  thus  secured  the 
means  of  ousting  him  from  his  snug  place  in  the  trade  of 
South  America,  we  should  have  kept  that  place  warm  for 
him  and  comforted  him,  in  the  face  of  all  our  Orders  in 
Council  and  Black  Lists  and  Board  of  Trade  flapdoodle 
about  “ Trading  with  the  Enemy.”  It  is  incontestable 
that  some  ” unseen  hand,”  working  for  the  protection  and 
maintenance  of  German  trade  interests,  triumphed  over 
all  the  avowed  policies  of  Great  Britain  in  these  parts, 
so  that  even  the  heathen  blasphemed.  Shall  we  ever 
know,  I wonder,  whether  it  was  an  enemy  hand  of  perfidy, 
or  only  the  clumsy  paw  of  dogged  British  conservatism 
and  red  tape,  guided  to  fooKshness  by  the  persuasiveness 
of  Israehte  finance  in  high  places? 

On  the  road  to  Villa  Morra,  Asun9ion’s  fashionable 
suburb,  there  are  many  unmistakable  signs  of  the  presence 
of  the  prosperous  Hun,  in  the  shape  of  pretentious  villas 
that  shriek  of  Hamburg  and  Old  Heidelberg.  Coloured 
glass  balls,  terra-cotta  dachshunds  and  porcelain  gnomes, 
all  suffering  more  or  less  from  the  climate,  stand  out 
pathetically  incongruous  against  the  stately  background 
of  orange  trees,  bananas  and  palms.  Hans  brings  his 
fantastic  Lares  with  him  to  the  New  World,  and,  through 
good  or  evil  report,  remains  faithful  to  them,  to  his 


152  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

Gretchen  and  to  his  sentimental  traditions.  Which  things 
may  perhaps  be  accounted  unto  him  for  righteousness  of 
a kind. 

Lest  my  truthful  description  of  the  delectable  city  of 
Asuncion  should  cause  the  reader  to  wonder  by  what 
stratagems  this  Republic  has  continued  to  exist  to  this 
day  as  an  independent  State,  let  it  be  explained  that,  in 
the  forests  and  cattle-ranches  of  the  interior,  the  Para- 
guayans, male  as  well  as  female,  are  by  no  means  in- 
capable of  productive  industry.  It  is  only  when  they 
come  under  the  combined  influence  of  demagogues  and 
drink  in  the  cities,  that  the  idea  of  labour  becomes  utterly 
unworthy  of  a freeborn  citizen.  The  mainstay  of  the 
country’s  finances  is  the  yerha  mate  industry  (Paraguayan 
tea),  and  the  backbone  of  that  industry  is  a Company 
called  the  “ Industrial  Paraguay  a,”  now  controlled  from 
London  and  locally  managed  by  a Scotchman.  If  it  were 
not  for  the  inveterate  tendency  of  the  pohticians  to  kill 
every  goose  that  shows  signs  of  laying  golden  eggs,  the 
yerha  trade  might  yet  become  the  financial  salvation  of 
the  country.  The  “ Industrial  ” owns  1200  leagues  of 
land,  that  is  to  say,  about  a ninth  part  of  the  territory  of 
Paraguay  Oriental;  its  product  is  greatly  superior  to 
Brazilian  yerha,  and  might  be  laid  down  more  cheaply 
than  coffee  in  the  markets  of  Argentina  and  Uruguay. 
But  the  trail  of  the  politician  lies  heavy  on  the  enter- 
prise ; want  of  roads  and  light  railways,  corrupt  adminis- 
tration, ilhcit  picking  by  roving  bands  of  smugglers — 
small  wonder  if,  contending  with  all  these,  the  Company 
has  paid  no  dividends  for  several  years.  Yet  the  land 
possesses  great  natural  resources,  and  if  ever  the  day 
comes  when  capital  can  safely  be  invested  in  its  develop- 
ment, the  wilderness  may  yet  be  made  to  blossom  as  the 
rose. 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


153 


At  the  packing  warehouse  in  Asungion,  where  the  crop 
from  the  up-country  yerbales  is  dried  and  pressed  into 
sacks,  the  peons  work  hard  enough,  considering  their 
reputation  for  laziness  and  their  pitiful  wage  of  ten  dollars 
a day.  The  Company  produced  four  and  a half  milUon 
kilos  of  yerha  in  1915,  worth  roughly  a shilling  per  kilo. 
At  the  Corrientes  mill,  hydraulic  machinery  is  used  for 
packing  the  leaf,  but  the  manager  at  Asun9ion  finds  that 
man-power  (using  wooden  pestles)  works  out  cheaper  in 
the  long  run.  I remember  once  meeting  with  certain 
exponents  of  scientific  agriculture,  who  had  come  on  a 
sort  of  semi-benevolent,  semi-practical  mission  from 
America  to  China,  whose  plans  for  rice  planting  by 
machinery  were  knocked  out  in  one  round  when  they 
came  up  against  the  pitiful  price  of  Chinese  coolie  labour. 
Where  labour  and  time  are  alike  futile,  since  they  cannot 
be  made  to  supply  the  human  animal’s  irreducible  wants, 
your  only  effective  machine  is  a quick-firing  gun.  And 
of  this  remedy  for  the  world’s  elemental  ills,  the  present 
generation  in  Paraguay  has  surely  had  enough. 

In  attempting  to  forecast  the  future  of  a country  like 
this,  and  the  destiny  of  its  people,  there  is  little  guidance 
to  be  had  from  studying  trade  returns,  or  comfort  in  the 
clauses  of  a Constitution ; also  (remembering  the  Jesuits) 
we  cannot  pin  our  faith  to  the  efforts  of  the  most  Christian 
Missions.  Here,  even  more  than  in  Mexico,  the  immediate 
question  that  confronts  us  is  that  of  the  possibility  of  race 
survival,  of  the  capacity  of  this  ancient  Guaran^  stock  to 
adapt  itself,  successfully  and  in  time,  to  the  conditions 
which  our  economic  pressure  is  steadily  forcing  upon  it. 
It  is  therefore  the  soul  of  the  people  that  concerns  us,  the 
structural  character  of  the  race ; does  it  show  any  signs 
of  intelligent  national  consciousness,  of  collective  capacity 
to  emerge,  through  peace  or  war,  from  the  category  of 


154  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  INIORALS 


beasts  of  burden  ? Of  course,  if  one  could  bring  oneself 
to  believe  the  pompous  poppy-cock  of  professional 
politicians,  or  the  sorry  stuff  written  for  European  con- 
sumption by  subsidised  oracles,  there  would  be  no  need 
to  worry  about  the  body  and  soul  of  the  native-born  : 
all  will  be  for  the  best  in  the  best  of  all  possible  worlds, 
and  Utopia  just  round  the  comer.  But  for  those  of  us 
who,  with  ghmmerings  of  understanding,  watch  the 
struggle  of  inefficient  primitive  peoples  against  the  modem 
forces  of  Mammon  (as  we  have  seen  it  in  Turkey  or  in 
China,  in  Portugal,  Mexico  and  the  Central  Latin  Re- 
pubhcs  of  South  America),  it  is  the  soul  of  the  man  in  the 
field  that  finally  matters.  After  all,  the  fiercely  “ re- 
volving ” inhabitants  of  Asungion  are  only  a tenth  of  the 
people  of  Paraguay,  and  here,  as  in  other  turbulent 
Republics,  when  the  politicians  create  strife  it  is  the 
common  people  that  fights  and  pays,  \\diat  prospect  is 
there,  that  the  man  in  the  field  of  Paraguay  will  learn 
when  to  fight,  and  wherefore  ? 

Looking  dispassionately  ahead,  there  does  not  seem 
to  be  much  chance  of  survival  either  for  the  Guarany 
race  or  for  the  Republic  of  Paraguay.  The  mestizo’s 
primitive  ancestors  dwelt  too  long  in  the  twihght  of  their 
slumbering  gods.  From  a planetary  point  of  view,  and 
remembering  that  the  whole  population  of  Paraguay  is 
about  the  same  as  that  of  the  Borough  of  Kensington, 
you  may  say  that  it  does  not  really  matter;  and  yet,  as 
Ireland  proves,  and  Poland,  this  question  of  nationahty 
is  not  so  much  a matter  of  numbers  as  of  national  ideals. 
The  sacred  rights  of  smaller  nations,  emphasised  in  the 
recent  Titanic  stmggle  of  the  larger,  are  not  so  simple  as 
many  of  our  leader-writers  appear  to  think.  The  abstract 
right  appeals,  no  doubt,  to  that  sentimental  abstraction 
knovTi  as  the  conscience  of  the  world,  but  in  practice  no 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


155 


small  nation  ever  remains  independent  unless  it  be 
geographically  protected  against  invasion  or  useful  as 
a buffer  state  ^ to  other  and  stronger  Powers.  As  far  as 
Paraguay  is  concerned,  it  has  retained  its  independence 
since  1870  simply  because  Brazil  and  the  Argentine 
allowed  it  to  remain  a bankrupt  buffer  state,  neither 
wishing  to  fight  for  it  at  the  moment.  To  this  fact  only 
the  Paraguayans  owe  the  continuance  of  their  proud 
privilege  of  sending  thirteen  Senators  and  twenty-six 
Deputies  to  the  House  of  Paz  y Justicia  and  of  paying 
them  each  $36,000  {£300)  a year  for  misgoverning  the 
country. 

It  is  difficult  for  the  foreigner  in  South  America  to  form 
any  permanently  satisfactory  idea  as  to  the  opinions  of 
I’homme  du  peuple  concerning  his  country  and  himself, 
and  in  Paraguay  it  is  particularly  difficult  to  obtain 
intimate  and  reliable  information  as  to  the  real  relations 
that  exist  between  governors  and  governed,  and  between 
employers  and  employed.  As  in  Mexico,  the  Indian  race 
has  here  developed,  by  process  of  interbreeding,  many 
characteristics  of  the  Spaniard,  while  retaining  un- 
fathomable depths  of  primitive  childishness.  If  it  were 
not  for  the  record  of  fanatical  patriotism  displayed  in  the 
wars  of  Lopez,  the  general  attributes  of  the  peon  class, 
as  one  sees  it  at  labour  in  the  yerhales,  might  lead  one  to 
the  conclusion  that  national  consciousness  exists  only  in 
the  fervid  imagination  of  the  official  mind.  The  actual 
conditions  under  which  the  peon  consents  to  exist,  are 
suggestive  rather  of  mediaeval  serfdom  than  of  an  en- 
lightened Republican  system,  whilst  the  attitude  of  the 

^ Moreover,  the  most  ardent  champions  of  the  rights  of 
humanity,  even  at  Washington,  seem  disposed  to  view  with 
complacency  the  absorption  by  peaceful  penetration  of  a passive 
people  such  as  the  Koreans,  or  {pace  the  Monroe  doctrine)  the 
gradual  Japapning  of  Peru, 


156  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


average  patron  suggests  that,  for  him,  the  labourer  is  only 
a httle  higher  than  his  cattle,  and  a good  deal  lower  than 
a free  and  independent  voter.  The  Indian  nature  persists 
in  the  peon  in  a strange  admixture  of  dog-like  devotion 
(of  which  the  Church  has  ever  been  ready  to  take  advan- 
tage for  purposes  of  State)  and  unreasoning  suspicion  of 
things  new  and  strange.  It  persists  also  in  the  tempera- 
mental lack  of  energy,  as  distinct  from  industry,  in  labour. 
The  peon  works  here,  as  elsewhere  in  South  America,  much 
in  the  same  way  as  Chinese  coolies  labour  for  hire  : 
doggedly,  with  a stolid,  even  cheerful  acceptance  of  toil 
as  part  of  the  inevitable  destiny  of  man,  but  without  the 
craftsman’s  joy  in  achievement  and  certainly  without 
the  spiritual  satisfaction  of  “ something  accomplished, 
something  done,”  which  frequently  stimulates  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  to  his  labour  of  days.  Upon  him,  as  upon  the  sons 
of  Ham,  lies  still  the  ancient  curse  of  Eden,  " thorns  also 
and  thistles  shall  the  ground  bring  forth  to  thee,  in  the 
sweat  of  thy  face  thou  shalt  eat  bread,  till  thou  return 
unto  the  ground.”  Upon  this  native  stock  the  grafting 
of  the  virtues  and  vices  of  the  Spaniard,  followed,  since 
the  passing  of  Lopez,  by  fantastic  modern  supergrowths 
of  hybrid  Democracy,  have  produced  a very  complex 
type,  in  which  the  old  copper-coloured  Adam  struggles 
fitfuUy  with  fragments  of  the  gospel  of  modernity  according 
to  Liebknecht  and  Lloyd  George. 

Dean  Funes,  of  whose  work  I have  already  made 
mention,  describes  the  character  of  the  Guaran^  Indians, 
before  the  days  of  steam  and  factories  and  Constitutions, 
in  a passage  which  remains  full  of  interest  and  more  than 
local  value  : ” These  natives,”  he  observes,  " are  of  a pale 
colour,  of  good  figure,  and  well-proportioned.  Both  in 
talent  and  intelhgence  they  are  capable  of  good  develop- 
ment. Lacking  in  natural  faculty  for  invention,  they 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


157 


excel  in  imitation.  Idleness  appears  to  be  natural  to 
them,  though  it  may  be  more  the  result  of  habit  than  of 
temperament;  their  capacity  for  acquiring  knowledge  is 
marked,  and  novelty  appeals  powerfully  to  their  minds. 
They  are  eager  to  command,  and  acquit  themselves 
honourably  in  any  position  to  which  they  may  attain. 
Eloquence  commands  the  highest  respect  among  them, 
and  avarice  has  no  degrading  hold  upon  their  minds. 
Quick  to  resent  an  insult,  they  would  rather  submit  to 
punishment  than  bear  an  injurious  word.  Unchastity 
in  their  women  they  regard  with  indifference,  even 
husbands  making  light  of  infidelity  in  their  wives,”  and 
so  on. 

During  the  Golden  Age — two  centuries  long — of  the 
Jesuits’  benevolent  despotism  in  Greater  Paraguay,  the 
peaceful  industry  of  these  Indians  made  them  probably 
the  most  contentedly-happy  people  on  the  American 
continent,  and  the  Mission  territories  the  most  productive 
possessions  of  the  Spanish  Crown.  It  is  necessary  to 
bear  in  mind  this  fact,  and  the  character  of  a people  which 
lent  itself  so  readily  to  an  Arcadian  type  of  religious 
communism,  in  order  to  appreciate  the  tragedy  of  their 
history  since  the  introduction  of  Paz  y Justicia,  modern 
style.  Even  if  the  material  benefits  continually  promised 
in  the  name  of  Democracy  were,  by  some  miracle,  forth- 
coming, all  the  history  of  Latin  America  goes  to  prove 
that  the  Indian  needs  something  more  than  loaves  and 
fishes,  some  spiritual  nourishment  and  direction.  It 
explains  also  the  reverence  which  was  felt,  even  by  the 
victims  of  his  tyranny,  for  Francia,  a Dictator  who,  with 
all  his  faults  (hke  Diaz  in  Mexico),  at  least  maintained 
order  and  a rough-and-ready  sort  of  communism.  The 
Indians  mourned  Francia,  after  his  death,  because,  with 
all  his  faults,  and  what  Carlyle  calls  his  ” grim  unspeak- 


158  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

abilities,”  this  ruler  had  in  him  that  quahty  which 
satisfied  the  spiritual  side  of  their  nature.  Indeed,  as 
compared  with  their  present  lot  under  the  spasmodic  garru- 
lous rule  of  political  adventurers,  Francia’s  Dictatorship 
appears  almost  beneficent  and  certainly  dignified.  For 
this  Dominican,  ripe  for  canonisation,  this  ‘‘  excellent 
superior  of  Jesuits,”  knew  at  least  the  saving  grace  of 
authoritative  silence. 

In  considering  the  present  characteristics  of  the  Para- 
guayans and  their  probable  destinies,  a temporary  factor 
resultant  from  the  campaigns  of  Lopez  must  not  be  over- 
looked— namely,  the  numerical  preponderance  of  women. 
At  the  close  of  that  magnificent  and  perfectly  futile 
struggle,  there  were  five  women  to  every  man  throughout 
the  decimated  Republic,  and  this  although  women  had 
been  slain  by  thousands.  In  a charming  description  of 
a festival  held  at  the  old  Jesuit  Reduction  of  Santa  Maria 
la  Mayor,  when  peace  had  been  restored  to  the  ^vilderness, 
Mr.  Cunninghame  Grahame  touches  lightly  on  this  matter  : 
” Bands  of  boys,”  he  writes,  ” for  in  those  days  most  of 
the  men  had  been  killed  off  in  the  past  wars,  came  trooping 
in,  accompanied  by  crowds  of  women  and  of  girls,  who 
carried  all  their  belongings ; for  there  were  thirteen  women 
to  a man,  and  the  youngest  boy  was  at  a premium  amongst 
the  Indian  w’omen,  who  in  the  villages,  where  hardly  any 
men  were  left,  fought  for  male  stragglers  like  unchained 
tigresses.”  The  social  and  economic  results  of  this 
parlous  dislocation  of  the  balance  of  nature  are  just  as 
unmistakable  here  in  Paraguay  to-day  as  they  were, 
mutatis  mutandis,  in  California  in  the  days  when  there 
were  five  men  to  every  woman.  From  the  moral  and 
social  point  of  view,  it  is  not  good  for  either  men  or 
women  to  be  at  a premium,  either  for  purposes  of  matri- 
mony or  bread-winning.  If  the  Paraguay  peon’s  treat- 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


159 


ment  of  his  women-folk  is  something  less  than  cavaher; 
if  his  wives  and  his  sisters  and  his  cousins  and  his  aunts 
are  wont  to  play  before  him  their  humble  part  as  beasts 
of  burden,  let  us  not  ascribe  this  to  him  as  original  sin, 
but  rather  to  the  brutal  force  of  imposed  circumstances. 
No  doubt  but  that,  in  process  of  time,  nature  and  immigra- 
tion will  adjust  the  sex  balance  and  the  Paraguayan 
women  will  then  cease  to  compete  for  the  favour  of  their 
faineant  swains  by  supporting  them  in  idleness  and 
abetting  them  in  the  consumption  of  cana.  As  matters 
stand,  the  peon  undoubtedly  has  things  very  much  his 
own  way,  within  the  hmits  of  his  resources,  in  the  matter 
of  wine,  women  and  song.  Without  a doubt,  he  gets  more 
of  all  three  than  his  grandfather  did  in  Francia's  day, 
and  often  more  than  is  good  for  him.  He  takes  the  gifts 
of  the  gods  with  something  very  suggestive  of  hidalgo 
nonchalance,  being  (as  Father  Funes  observed)  of  a keenly 
imitative  nature.  His  fondness  for  cana  is  probably  the 
worst  feature  of  his  disposition,  and  if  common  report 
speaks  truly,  it  is  a growing  evil.  In  every  enterprise 
where  foreign  capital  is  involved,  and  aboriginal  morals 
supervised  in  the  interests  of  dividends,  strict  rules  are 
made  excluding  all  liquor  from  the  premises.  At  the 
factory  of  the  “ Industrial  ” all  the  windows  are  wired, 
so  that  yerha  may  not  be  passed  out  to  the  peons’  ladies- 
in-waiting,  or  cana  passed  in.  On  the  ground  floor  the 
lower  half  of  the  window  is  boarded  up,  for  it  was  found 
that  wire  netting  did  not  prevent  the  men  from  getting 
their  liquor ; their  faithful  wives  held  the  cana  up  to  the 
windows  in  a mate  bowl,  and  their  lords  sucked  it  through 
the  wire  by  means  of  the  homhilla.  In  the  sugar  and 
quebracho  (tannin)  factories,  where  Indians  are  em- 
ployed, here  and  in  the  Argentine,  precautions  against 
pilfering  require  constant  vigilance.  “ Personne  n’est 


160  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


trh  ladrone,”  is  a Swiss  manager’s  verdict  of  Paraguayan 
honesty,  “ mais  tout  le  monde  est  tin  peu  ladrone.” 

In  his  relations  with  women  the  Paraguayan  is  primitive, 
passionate  and  promiscuous.  Released  from  the  dis- 
cipline and  moral  restraints  that  made  him,  according 
to  the  chroniclers,  a fairly  decent  member  of  society  under 
the  Jesuits’  dispensation,  and  encouraged  in  his  poly- 
gamous instincts  by  the  fact  that  he  is  an  object  of  matri- 
monial (or  morganatic)  competition,  his  love  affairs  are 
frequent  and  free.  As  a result.  Society  and  the  law 
recognise  three  classes  of  offspring — legitimate  children, 
illegitimate  and  natural.  The  “ naturals  ” are  those  bom 
of  the  liaison  of  unmarried  parents ; they  are  often  taken 
into  the  man’s  subsequently-acquired  and  legitimate 
family,  and  brought  up  as  part  of  it,  the  mother  being 
provided  for.  Illegitimate  children  are  those  born  of  a 
man’s  irregular  connections  after  marriage ; these  by  the 
laws  of  the  land  are  entitled  to  claim  a share  of  their 
father’s  estate  upon  his  death,  a condition  of  affairs  which 
provides  much  scandalous  material  for  the  gossips  and 
profitable  work  for  lawyers.  Philoprogenitiveness  is 
strongly  marked  in  both  sexes,  so  that  (as  in  the  East) 
sterihty  in  a woman  is  commonly  regarded  as  justifying 
her  husband  in  contracting  irregular  relations.  For  the 
same  reason  home  fife  is  seen  at  its  best  in  Paraguayan 
families  during  the  period  when  the  children  are  young. 

Nevertheless,  the  Spanish  blood  in  his  veins  often 
invests  the  peon’s  love  affairs  with  a touch  of  Quixotic 
adventure  and  a romantic  quality,  in  which  chivalry  and 
insouciance  are  fitfully  blended,  as  amongst  the  Gauchos. 
Fierce  homicidal  jealousy  in  his  blood,  and  black  moods 
of  swift  revenge  when  balked  of  his  heart’s  desire ; most 
of  the  tragedies  that  stand  recorded  in  rude  crosses  by  the 
wayside  are  tales  of  passionate  intrigue  and  vendettas,  for 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


161 


life  is  cheap  in  the  wilderness  of  the  yerbales,  and  the  arm 
of  the  law  as  short  as  the  memories  of  men.  Often, 
indeed,  the  law  is  so  framed  and  administered,  here  as 
elsewhere,  in  the  Latin  Republics,  that  it  serves  as  a 
direct  incentive  to  lawlessness. 

To  cite  a typical  case  in  point ; in  1916,  at  one  of  the 
yerbales  stations  of  the  “ Industrial,”  a mestizo  carpenter 
became  enamoured  of  the  major-domo’s  sister,  and, 
following  the  customary  etiquette,  asked  pennission  to 
pay  court  to  the  lady,  pour  le  bon  motif.  The  major-domo 
not  only  refused  his  consent,  but  persuaded  the  manager 
to  have  the  man  transferred  to  another  station.  The 
carpenter  begged  and  protested,  promising  to  abandon 
his  suit,  but  the  order  was  upheld — he  must  go.  Con- 
cealing the  vengeful  rage  to  which  his  passion  now  turned, 
he  feigned  compliance,  but  on  the  day  fixed  for  his  de- 
parture, he  bribed  a small  Indian  boy  of  the  major-domo’s 
household  to  put  arsenic  into  the  family’s  midday  food. 
The  major-domo  died,  and  his  sister,  together  with  eleven 
other  persons,  barely  escaped  with  their  lives.  The 
murderer  went  unpunished,  in  the  absence  of  direct 
evidence  sufficient  to  impress  the  local  Comisario,  who 
as  it  happened  had  his  own  grudge  against  the  major-domo. 
The  avenging  of  the  latter’s  death  was  thereupon  under- 
taken by  one  of  the  eleven,  an  Argentine  of  Enghsh 
descent,  who  promptly  set  forth  in  dogged  pursuit  of  the 
poisoner.  Both  disappeared  into  the  silent  places  of  the 
wilderness.  The  major-domo’s  brother  took  his  place; 
his  sister  resumed  her  innocent  glad  eye  and  killing  smile, 
and  the  tide  of  life  flowed  on,  without  a ripple  of  concern, 
over  the  scene  of  her  devastating  conquest.  Ineidents 
of  this  kind,  that  would  furnish  three  days’  headlines  in 
New  England,  scarcely  attract  editorial  comment  in  the 
news  sheets  of  Asun9ion. 

M 


162  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


And  yet,  despite  his  sins  of  omission  and  commission, 
the  Paraguayan,  hke  most  of  the  descendants  of  Spanish- 
Indian  ancestors,  is  a lovable  and  interesting  specimen  of 
humanity.  The  history  of  the  race  shows  clearly  that, 
given  good  government  administered  by  honest  men,  he 
has  in  him  the  makings  of  a very  decent  and  useful 
citizen.  Recognising  this  fact,  and  the  obvious  impossi- 
bility of  his  ever  achieving  either  civic  decency  or  economic 
utihty  under  existing  conditions,  a sympathetic  observer 
can  only  ask  himself,  what  reasonable  prospect  is  there 
of  anything  better  being  evolved  from  the  political 
elements  at  present  active  or  latent  in  the  State  ? 

According  to  the  politicians  themselves,  peace  and 
prosperity  await  the  nation  at  the  cross-roads  of  the  next 
revolution;  it  is  always  the  next.  But  experience  has 
repeatedly  proved  them  to  be  Ijdng  prophets  : the  record 
of  the  caudillos  is  one  long-drawn  tale  of  sordid  ambition 
and  futile  strife.  There  has  been  vitahty  and  to  spare, 
and  bloodshed,  but  neither  disciphne,  unity  nor  organised 
effort.  All  that  has  been  evolved  out  of  pohtical  chaos, 
confusion  and  crime  since  1870,  is  a parasitical  bureau- 
cracy, blind  leaders  of  the  blind.  What  then  ? Dictator- 
ship, in  which  South  American  writers  like  Garcia  Calderon 
see  the  best  hopes  of  a stabihty,  can  only  afford  temporary 
rehef ; it  may  repress,  but  caimot  eradicate  the  permanent 
causes  of  disorganisation.  Even  the  strongest  of  dictators 
cannot  hope  to  re-make  the  society  which  has  made  him ; 
at  best,  he  can  but  dominate  it  for  a time. 

Amalgamation  vith  Argentina  would  probably  solve 
most  of  the  coimtry’s  pressing  material  problems,  and  if 
it  were  not  for  the  vested  interests  of  demagogues  and 
pohticians,  the  Paraguayans  might  be  led  to  see  that 
such  a solution  would  be  all  to  their  advantage.  As 
matters  stand,  however,  the  process  of  geographical  and 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


163 


sympathetic  gravitation  tends  rather  towards  Brazil,  in 
which  direction  there  lies  no  possible  hope  of  moral  or 
material  salvation. 

Finally,  there  is  the  prospect  of  gradual  improvement 
of  the  country's  political  and  economic  conditions  by 
means  of  European  immigration.  Already  there  are 
some  15,000  Itahan  settlers  of  the  industrious  agricultural 
class  in  the  Republic,  and  the  Government  has  had  sense 
enough  to  learn  (as  Brazil  is  learning)  that  their  productive 
industry  is  worth  encouraging.  But  even  for  them  (and 
far  more  so  for  the  Anglo-Saxon,  as  the  pastoral  experi- 
ment of  the  " New  Australia  ” Colony  has  proved)  the 
attractions  of  the  country,  as  at  present  administered, 
wane  upon  closer  acquaintance.  So  long  as  Argentina 
and  Uruguay  offer  better  security  for  life  and  property, 
the  fertile  plains  and  rich  forest  lands  of  Paraguay  are 
likely  to  remain  in  their  present  rudimentary  state  of 
development.  But  the  increasing  needs  of  this  congested 
planet  in  the  matter  of  its  daily  bread,  and  the  industrial 
world’s  competition  for  raw  materials,  are  such  that, 
face  the  Monroe  doctrine  and  all  other  artificial  obstruc- 
tions, it  is  impossible  to  conceive  that  a land  like  this 
should  continue  much  longer  to  be  a barren  stamping- 
ground  for  the  wild  asses  of  politics.  The  day  is  coming 
when  they  will  have  to  get  on  or  get  out.  The  country 
must  be  redeemed  to  purposes  of  economic  usefulness. 
Will  the  Guarany  people  perish  in  the  process,  by  cana 
and  competition,  leaving  no  memorials  of  their  race, 
beyond  the  music  of  the  names  that  cling  to  their  rivers  ? 

The  conscientious  traveller  who  has  come  to  Asun9ion 
by  the  Parana  and  who  wishes  to  see  as  much  of  Paraguay 
as  possible,  may  return  to  Buenos  Aires  by  the  railway 
line  (Paraguay’s  ewe  lamb),  on  which  a through  train  runs 
weekly,  with  restaurant  and  sleeping-cars,  via  Encarnagion 


164  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


on  the  Alto  Parana.  It  is  a journey  which  affords  interest- 
ing snap-shot  glimpses  of  the  unblossoming  wilderness, 
and,  on  the  Argentine  side,  of  cattle-ranching  in  the 
grand  manner ; but  the  road  is  monotonous  and  decidedly 
bumpy.  Those  who  know  it  usually  prefer  the  river. 

On  the  day  before  my  departure  from  Asun9ion,  being 
by  that  time  attuned  to  the  leisurely  moods  of  the  people, 
I sauntered  into  the  telegraph  office  to  despatch  a message 
to  Buenos  Aires.  There  had  been  a creciente  this  side 
of  Corrientes,  and  rumour  had  it  that  the  Paraguayan 
lines  were  not  working.  On  this  point  no  information 
was  forthcoming;  the  clerk,  sucking  thoughtfully  at  his 
mate,  finally  accepted  the  telegram  for  transmission, 
“ without  responsibility.”  From  thence  I proceeded  to 
the  office  of  the  Mihanovitch  steamer  line  (latest  of  modern 
Conquistadores)  to  book  a berth  for  Corrientes.  The 
languid  clerk  looked  up  from  his  newspaper,  and  keeping 
a careful  finger  on  the  line  at  which  he  was  so  unkindly 
interrupted,  observed,  more  in  sorrow  than  in  anger, 
" We  do  not  sell  tickets  rmtil  to-morrow.”  Whereupon 
he  resumed  his  reading.  Next  morning  I returned  to 
find  him  feverishly  making  up  arrears  of  work,  for  the 
steamer  which  cleared  at  sunset.  He  was  evidently  not 
accustomed  to  be  disturbed  in  the  fine  frenzy  of  an  effort 
like  this.  " I am  busy  now,  Senor,”  he  said,  without 
looking  up;  ” come  again  this  afternoon.”  A week  ago 
this  sort  of  thing  might  have  stirred  one  to  indite  a futile 
remonstrance ; now,  having  achieved  a philosophy 
superior  to  the  Time  machine,  you  shrug  your  shoulders 
gracefully  and  go  your  ways  in  peace. 

As  to  your  telegram,  you  discover  in  due  course  that 
it  was  despatched  by  post,  on  the  same  steamer  by  which 
you  left,  and  was  delivered  at  Buenos  Aires  two  days 
after  your  arrival.  After  all,  what  does  it  matter  ? Tout 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


165 


s’ arrange.  Nevertheless,  you  wonder  whether  your  foolish 
dollars  eventually  found  their  way  into  the  public  funds 
of  “ Paz  y Justicia,”  or  into  the  privy  purse  of  the  clerk 
" without  responsibihty.”  Let  us  give  him  the  benefit 
of  a “ not-proven  ” doubt. 

As  the  good  ship  Berna  glides  swiftly  down  the  Chaco 
shores,  threading  its  way  amongst  little  islands  of  floating 
water- weeds  and  driftwood,  we  watch  the  evening  mist, 
like  a garment  “ of  white  samite,  mystic,  wonderful,” 
shrouding  the  waving  Pampas  grass  and  tala  thickets  in 
its  soft  clinging  folds.  A pallid  moon  casts  its  sheen  of 
silver  on  the  waters ; the  chattering  parliaments  of  parro- 
quets  are  stilled,  and  all  the  ghostly  wilderness  flits  past 
in  mysterious  silence.  At  such  an  hour  it  is  given  to  us 
wayfarers  to  perceive  something  of  the  remote  causes  of 
the  manana  philosophy,  and  to  accept  it  for  better  or  for 


worse. 


CHAPTER  IX 


ASUNCION  TO  MONTEVIDEO  OVERLAND 

From  Asuncion,  returning  to  Corrientes,  I took  the 
overland  road  to  Montevideo,  by  railway  first  to  Concordia 
on  the  Rio  Uruguay,  and  thence  by  boat  to  the  mouth  of 
the  Rio  Negro,  which  is  the  jumping-off  place  for  Mercedes. 
From  that  drowsiest  of  “ camp  ” towns,  the  Central 
Uruguay  Railway  wuU  take  you,  sooner  or  later,  if  the 
fates  are  propitious,  to  Montevideo. 

After  the  teeming  wealth  of  flora  and  fauna  in  the  Chaco, 
to  return  to  the  almost  unbroken  monotony  of  pastoral 
Argentina  and  Uruguay  is  apt  to  be  somewhat  depressing 
at  first.  It  is  a change  which  produces  a longing  for  the 
wings  of  a dove,  like  that  which  seizes  a man  on  the  first 
day  he  goes  back  to  work  in  London  (a  foggy  day,  for 
choice)  after  a holiday  in  France.  Needless  to  say,  London 
and  stern  attention  to  business,  with  Upper  Tooting  and 
Little  Bethel  in  the  background,  are  more  profitable  and 
edifying  than  Paris  in  the  long  run,  even  as  the  flocks  and 
herds  of  the  estancias,  that  run  in  endless  succession  from 
Corrientes  to  Concordia,  are  more  profitable  than  aU  the 
magnificent  extravagance  of  the  Chaco.  Granted  that 
all  really  good  things  and  people  are  plain,  one  needs  a 
little  time  to  get  used  to  them,  after  the  other  kind.  Of 
course,  every  estanciero  will  tell  you  that  no  two  estancias 
are  really  alike,  and  that  this  impression  of  monotonous 
sameness  lies  not  in  them,  but  in  the  undiscerning  eye 
of  the  uninitiated;  just  as  sailors  explain  the  subtle 
differences  which  doubtless  exist,  but  which  the  land-lubber 


CROSSING  A RIVER  IN  THE  DRY  SEASON,  URUGUAY 


MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS  167 

cannot  see,  between  ships.  I do  not  mean  to  say  that 
estancia  life  is  monotonous — far  from  it — but  I maintain 
that  the  general  aspect  of  the  country,  especially  when 
exhibited  as  a moving  picture  seen  from  the  railway,  is 
about  as  exhilarating  as  that  of  the  great  wheat  belt  in 
Canada  or  the  steppes  of  the  Ukraine,  and  should  you 
chance  to  pass  this  way  at  a time  of  serious  drought,  when 
the  land  lies  brown  and  parched  and  the  cattle  wander 
miserably  by  the  waterless  canadas,  seeking  the  last 
patches  of  pasture,  the  scene  is  one  that  haunts  the  memory 
like  an  evil  dream. 

But  the  chief  cause  of  the  inevitable  impression  of 
flatness  in  the  “ camp”  which  is  apt  to  depress  sensitive 
souls,  lies  in  the  scarcity  of  trees.  A country  may  flow  with 
milk  and  honey,  but  if  it  lacks  trees,  it  is  like  a woman  who 
lacks  hair,  deficient  in  something  essential  to  our  complete 
satisfaction.  If  I were  a ruler  in  Argentina  or  Uruguay, 
I should  make  the  planting  of  trees  a matter  not  of  exhorta- 
tion, but  of  rigorous  compulsion,  and  exempt  all  monies 
from  taxation  for  the  next  fifty  years.  Orchards  and 
vineyards  are  not  to  be  demanded  from  districts  subject 
to  devastating  invasions  of  locusts,  but  tall  poplars  and 
eucalyptus,  planted  with  discrimination,  make  all  the 
difference  to  the  landscape ; moreover,  for  trees  that  gather 
to  a shade,  there  are  several  natives  immune  from  locusts, 
such  as  the  ancient  mystic  ombu,  the  paraiso,  and  the 
hardwood  nadabay,  all  well  worth  the  trouble  of  planting 
and  fencing.  Darwin  endeavoured  to  explain  the  absence 
of  trees  throughout  the  grassy  pampean  plain  as  the  result 
of  the  violence  of  the  south-west  pampero,  which  is 
obviously  absurd.  Other  puzzled  observers  have  ascribed 
it  to  the  destruction  of  saplings  by  hares  and  other  rodents, 
but  as  rodents  are  not  confined  to  the  pampas,  this  theory  is 
equally  untenable.  My  own  tentative  idea  on  the  subj ect  is. 


168  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

that  the  son  of  the  soil  in  general,  and  the  lordly  Gaucho 
in  particular,  sees  no  particular  virtue  in  trees  except  as 
firewood ; that  he  prefers  his  native  plains  unencumbered 
by  obstacles  which  obstruct  the  view,  or  the  lasso,  of  the 
cattle-ranger,  and  that  he  regards  tree-planting  as  a busi- 
ness which  Nature  evidently  intended  the  wind  and  the 
birds  to  attend  to,  since  it  cannot  be  done  by  a man  on 
horseback.  At  every  railway  station  you  will  see  the 
exhortatory  advertisements  of  the  scientific  arboriculture 
establishment  at  Toledo,  offering  over  a hundred  different 
kinds  of  tree  for  sale,  but  it  is  rare  to  find  more  than 
twenty  species  on  any  estancia,  even  where  the  property 
includes  a long  stretch  of  wooded  river  bank. 

Trees  have  increased  in  these  parts  of  recent  years,  and 
especially  since  the  war  sent  the  price  of  coal  up  to  a figure 
which  gave  the  railways  the  alternative  of  using  wood  fuel 
or  going  out  of  business.  But  even  to-day  you  may  see 
wide  stretches  of  country  where  the  " camp  ” lies  bare  and 
level  to  a featureless  horizon,  so  that  the  sight  of  a solitary 
omhu,  or  row  of  poplars,  marking  the  approach  to  an 
estancia,  becomes  a positive  rehef  to  the  eye.  Under 
these  conditions  you  get  a vague  impression  of  vast  dis- 
tances, but  there  is  no  grandeur  in  the  outlook ; also  you 
know  that  even  this  impression  of  vastness  is  a delusion, 
because,  the  more  level  the  plain,  the  closer  the  limits 
of  your  horizon.  And  if  you  should  happen  to  be  of  a 
speculative  turn  of  mind,  the  question  inevitably  arises, 
how  far  is  the  unbroken  sameness  of  the  scene,  throughout 
the  pasture  lands  that  run  from  the  Atlantic  half-way  to 
the  Andes,  responsible  for  the  narrowness  of  outlook  which 
undoubtedly  obtains  among  many  of  these  dwellers  of 
the  pampas  ? To  what  extent  is  the  mind  of  the  resident 
— native  or  colonist,  padron  or  peon — oppressed,  and 
inclined  to  parochial  smallness,  by  the  nature  of  his  en- 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


169 


vironment  ? I confess  that  I find  it  difficult  to  account 
in  any  other  way  for  the  kind  of  mental  sleeping  sickness 
that  one  frequently  observes,  combined  with  complete 
self-satisfaction,  in  individuals  whose  landed  rights  extend 
over  an  area  half  the  size  of  an  Enghsh  county,  or  for  the 
extraordinarily  limited  range  of  general  conversation  in 
the  “ camp.”  The  existence  of  these  limitations  is  recog- 
nised by  the  communities  concerned,  for  extreme  cases 
are  frequently  described  as  suffering  from  ‘‘  camp-rot,”  and 
the  remedy  usually  prescribed  is  a trip  to  Europe.  In  the 
case  of  married  couples,  the  effect  of  several  continuous 
years  of  unbroken  “ camp  ” fife  often  amounts,  humanly 
speaking,  to  general  atrophy  of  the  thinking  apparatus. 

Railway  travel  in  South  America  is  not  as  luxurious  a 
business  as  people  might  infer  from  contemplating  the 
lavish  lordliness  of  Argentines  travelling  in  Europe.  There 
are  one  or  two  show  fines,  like  the  Sao  Paulo  fine  in  Brazil 
and  the  Central  Argentine,  but,  generally  speaking,  a 
train  is  constructed  and  regarded  simply  as  a means  of 
transport,  and,  like  the  ordinary  camp-town  hotel,  does 
not  indulge  in  any  frills  and  fads.  The  fine  from  Corrientes 
to  Concordia,  on  the  Argentine  North-Eastern,  like  all 
railways  in  these  parts,  was  badly  hit  by  the  war,  and 
compelled  to  adapt  itself  to  the  use  of  wood  fuel  when 
English  coal  shipments  ceased.  At  first  they  managed 
to  get  coal  from  Natal  at  £4  a ton,  but  after  three  ship- 
loads of  this,  the  export  was  stopped,  so  the  Company 
bought  up  a tract  of  forest  and  built  branch  fines  for  hauling 
the  timber,  eventually  succeeding  in  producing  the  wood 
equivalent  of  a ton  of  coal  for  about  38s.  with  considerable 
benefit  to  local  labour.  In  this  they  were  luckier  than 
other  fines,  such  as  the  Central  Uruguay,  which  could  not 
procure  sufficient  wood  and  was  therefore  compelled  to 
cut  down  the  through  passenger  service  to  one  or  two 


170  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


trains  a week.  But  making  every  allowance  for  war-time 
difficulties,  the  line  to  Concordia  did  not  come  up  to  modern 
ideas  of  rational  comfort  in  1916.  The  way  the  cars  jolted 
and  bumped,  even  when  going  at  a modest  pace,  was 
enough  to  justify  any  one  in  asking  for  a refund  of  the 
price  charged  for  a sleeper.  It  seems  that  the  cost  of 
solid  ballasting  is  prohibitive,  so  that  the  line  is  laid 
lightly  with  55-lb.  rails.  One  gets  the  impression,  beyond 
the  paying  sections  of  passenger  traffic,  such  as  the 
Cordova  and  Rosario  lines,  that  the  railway  companies 
take  more  thought  for  a stalled  ox  than  for  the  sons  of 
men;  and  as  the  travelling  public  seems  quite  content 
with  things  as  they  are,  no  doubt  they  are  right. 

Even  before  the  North-East  Argentine  and  the  Entre 
Rios  Railways  came  to  Concordia,  this  town  was  the  chief 
depot  and  port  of  shipment  for  the  estancieros  of  Entre 
Rios.  Either  because  of  its  position  and  prospects,  or 
by  some  special  dispensation  of  Providence,  it  appears 
to  have  attracted  a type  of  citizen  more  energetic  and 
wideawake  than  those  of  other  towns  which  live  by  hand- 
ling the  produce  of  the  interior.  Its  prosperity  and 
enterprise  are  indicated  by  many  things  that  are  conspic- 
uous by  their  absence  in  most  of  the  mouldy  old  towns  that 
lie  scattered  throughout  the  pampas  region.  Good  streets, 
well  paved  and  decently  lighted,  handsome  shops,  plenty 
of  private  motor-cars;  and  for  public  hire  good  clean 
carriages,  with  first-rate  horses,  at  moderate  fares.  But 
even  here,  nobody  seems  to  bother  about  drains  or  a 
public  water  supply,  and  the  hotels  are  of  a kind  to  which 
a traveller  may  bid  a long  farewell  without  undue  repining. 
Nevertheless,  the  place  itself  lingers  in  one’s  mind  with  a 
subtle  charm  and  fragrance  of  its  owm,  making  one  of 
those  alluring  pictures  which  every  wanderer  stores  in  his 
treasure-house  of  memories  and  dreams.  The  people. 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


171 


as  I took  the  air  in  the  Plaza  at  the  hour  of  the  evening 
aperitif,  seemed  not  only  more  alive,  but  much  more 
human,  than  the  typical  hijo  del  pais  ; not  only  did  they 
walk  more  alertly,  but  there  was  in  their  carriage,  especially 
that  of  the  hatless  women,  something  unusually  vital, 
suggestive  of  the  slender  graceful  vivacity  of  old  Spain. 
As  I watched  the  gilded  youth  of  the  place  taking  its 
accustomed  stroll  round  the  square,  young  men  and 
maidens  discreetly  apart,  as  usual  under  the  watchful 
eye  of  plump  and  pleasing  duennas,  paterfamilias  taking 
his  vermouth  the  while  at  the  alfresco  cafe  which  does  a 
brisk  business  on  the  sidewalk,  it  was  borne  in  upon  me 
that,  compared  to  us  Anglo-Saxons,  these  people  are  an 
extremely  ornamental  race,  and  graceful  in  all  their  ways. 
Politically  speaking,  the  results  of  the  fusion  of  Spanish 
blood  with  that  of  the  aboriginal  Indians  may  leave  some- 
thing to  be  desired,  but  the  physical  results  are  undeniably 
pleasing.  And  these  people  are  fond  of  the  sunshine, 
and  of  children,  of  music  and  dogs,  all  of  which  things 
they  enjoy  here  in  cheerful  profusion,  when  the  day’s 
work  is  done  and  the  Plaza  becomes,  in  a sense,  the  town’s 
co-operative  parlour,  a social  clearing-house. 

Dogs  figure  conspicuously  in  the  life  of  the  community, 
both  at  Corrientes  and  Concordia,  dogs  of  all  sizes  and 
breeds,  together  with  curs  of  that  low  degree  which  results 
from  the  imtrammelled  hberty  and  hcence  of  an  estancia 
dog’s  hie.  Dog-fights  are  among  the  most  notable  occur- 
rences in  the  social  life  of  “ camp  ” towns  like  Mercedes, 
which,  even  at  the  Plaza  hour,  give  one  the  impression  of 
being  only  partly  awakened  from  a long  siesta  and  on  the 
point  of  going  to  sleep  again.  I have  often  tried  to  discover, 
but  so  far  in  vain,  why  dogs  are  so  numerous,  and  their 
society  evidently  appreciated,  in  towns  like  Corrientes, 
Concordia  and  Mercedes,  whilst  in  Buenos  Aires  they  are 


172  ^lEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


comparatively  scarce,  and  in  Montevideo  still  more  so. 
Some  say  that  the  explanation  hes  in  the  fact  that  in  the 
smaller  towns  a dog-owner  can  evade  the  hcence  tax  (Sio), 
like  other  imposts,  by  making  friends  of  the  local  mammon 
of  unrighteous  officialdom ; but  this  ingenious  suggestion 
does  not  really  explain  why  wealthy  Montevideo  should  go 
about  dogless,  why  even  the  stoutest  Senora’s  automobile 
should  lack  its  appropriate  decoration  of  a Pom  or  Pekinese. 

From  Concordia  I passed  down  the  Rio  Uruguay,  first 
(because  the  river  was  low)  in  a small  hght-draught  vessel, 
as  far  as  the  spot  where  the  water  deepens  and  the  pucka 
Buenos  Aires  river  steamer,  very  palatial  after  the  Ameri- 
can manner,  took  us  aboard.  The  small  boat  was  very 
dirty  and  crowded,  but  none  the  less  interesting  on  that 
account.  The  majority  of  its  passengers  were  of  the  world 
which  lives  by  and  for  the  slaughter  of  cattle.  All  along 
the  river,  at  Salto,  Colon,  Paysandu,  and  Fray  Bentos, 
there  are  huge  saladeros,  where  all  day  long  and  every  day, 
poor  beasts,  terrified  by  the  far-flung  smell  of  blood,  go 
by  thousands  to  their  doom,  in  order  that  millions  of  men, 
engaged  in  scientifically  slaughtering  each  other  on  the 
other  side  of  the  world,- may  go  to  their  graves  well  fed. 
I suggested  this  aspect  of  the  matter  to  a saladero  manager, 
a naturahsed  Argentine  of  English  descent.  He  was  a 
man  of  parts,  not  unversed  in  the  humanities,  but  as 
regards  his  business  sternly  utilitarian  and  cosmopohtan. 

I gathered,  incidentally,  that  the  bulk  of  his  buyers  were 
German. 

At  midnight,  in  a torrential  downpour  of  rain,  the  pala- 
tial river-boat  dropped  three  miserable  passengers  and 
some  cargo  for  Mercedes  at  the  mouth  of  the  Rio  Negro ; 
thus  we  passed  from  Argentina  to  Uruguay.  Apart  from 
the  weather,  Uruguay’s  transport  arrangements  at  this 
point  are  not  of  a kind  to  precipitate  any  riotous  enthu- 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


173 


siasm  for  the  Banda  Oriental.  We  found  ourselves  upon  a 
mouldy  old  tug-boat,  a noisome  craft,  full  of  cockroaches 
and  bilge-water,  with  three  hours’  journey  between  us  and 
Mercedes.  The  crew  were  clearly  of  opinion  that  no  good 
purpose  would  be  served  by  reaching  that  bustling  spot 
before  breakfast  time,  also  that  navigation  by  night  is 
perilous,  for  no  sooner  were  we  on  board  than  they  resumed, 
somewhere  in  the  bowels  of  the  ship,  the  game  of  poker 
which  our  arrival  had  interrupted.  The  steward,  drunken 
and  semi-torpid,  who  did  the  honours  of  the  murky  cabin, 
decorated  with  card  chips  and  cigar  ends  and  a strong  smell 
of  caiia,  declined  to  produce  tea,  coffee  or  any  other  kind  of 
refreshment,  being  evidently  anxious  to  resume  his  hand  in 
the  game  as  quickly  as  possible.  The  so-called  cabins  were 
cupboards,  just  large  enough  to  hold  a bunk  and  several 
thousand  cockroaches ; their  doors  refused  to  shut  and  the 
rain  came  through  the  upper  decks ; so,  in  the  intervals  of 
fitful  sleep,  we  prayed  for  the  dawn.  It  came,  and  the 
bedraggled  steward  celebrated  it  by  making  some  milk- 
less coffee  for  which,  as  a very  necessary  precaution,  he 
collected  payment  in  advance. 

Mercedes  loomed  through  a clammy  fog  at  7.30  a.m.; 
the  eye  of  faith  and  hope  could  discern  three  or  four  pre- 
historic carriages  of  sorts  gathered  to  a conversational 
centre  on  a melancholy-looking  wharf.  An  hour  later,  the 
ship’s  leisurely  preparations  for  discharge  being  completed, 
a couple  of  languid  Customs  officers  loomed  up,  and  after 
a cursory  look  at  our  baggage,  and  much  ceremonious 
exchange  of  courtesies  between  them  and  the  other 
passengers,  who  were  natives  of  the  town,  we  were  made 
free  of  the  Repubhc  of  Uruguay  and  proceeded  to  seek 
bath  and  breakfast  at  the  Hotel  de  Paris.  There  we 
found  la  Senora  Padrona  and  her  offspring  tranquilly 
busy  with  their  morning  mate  in  a patio  curiously  sugges- 


174  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


tive  of  the  Orient,  with  its  palm  and  ferns  and  an  aviary 
filled  with  cardinals,  toldos  and  other  song-birds.  The 
hotel  is  built  so  that  every  one  shall  have  the  benefit  of 
the  cheerful  sights  and  sounds  of  this  inner  court,  the  bed- 
rooms on  the  upper  storey  all  opening  on  to  the  balcony 
which  overlooks  it.  The  only  light  which  penetrates 
these  rooms,  and  those  on  the  ground  floor,  is  the  half- 
light  of  the  shaded  patio,  cool  and  pleasant,  no  doubt,  in 
summer,  but  on  a rainy  winter’s  day  a trifle  depressing. 
One  of  the  most  unaccountable  things  about  this  country 
in  the  way  in  which  native  architecture  persists  in  the 
Spanish  tradition  of  ignoring  provision  against  cold 
weather.  It  is  the  same  in  the  towns  as  in  the  rural  dis- 
tricts; houses  are  always  built  on  the  principle  that  pro- 
tection against  the  sun  is  the  one  thing  needful.  And 
this  in  a land  where  for  three  months  of  the  year  at  least 
the  south  wind  brings  a very  penetrating  cold,  and  frosts 
are  quite  common. 

Of  all  the  mildewed,  moth-eaten  holes  that  make  one 
wonder  what  Columbus  redivivus  would  think  of  the 
fruits  of  his  labours,  Mercedes  has  undeniable  claims  to 
pre-eminence.  In  most  ways  the  town  is  a fair  type  of 
those  which  have  grown  up  along  the  main  waterways  and 
railways,  to  supply  the  wants  and  handle  the  produce 
of  the  “ camp,”  but  it  possesses  a seven-sleeper  quality  of 
torpor  which  so  far  as  my  limited  observation  goes,  is 
unrivalled  by  any  of  its  peers.  In  outward  appearance  it 
is,  of  course,  like  all  other  “ camp  ” towns.  Its  houses  are 
nearly  all  of  one  pattern  and  height,  painted  stucco  build- 
ings, with  little  balconies  to  the  windows  of  the  upper 
storey  and  heavy  ironwork  grilles  securing  the  lower 
ones  against  burglars  and  lordly  wooers.  Each  has  its 
little  flower  and  fern  bedecked  patio,  of  which  you  catch 
cool  and  refreshing  glimpses,  through  doorways  that  open 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


175 


to  the  street,  all  the  more  alluring  because  of  the  dreary 
monotony  of  the  street  itself.  In  the  Plaza,  which  always 
typifies  and  reflects,  so  to  speak,  the  civic  life  of  a South 
American  town,  there  is  a perfunctory  statue  of  Liberty, 
bearing  on  its  pedestal  all  the  memorable  dates  which 
have  set — or  were  meant  to  have  set — the  feet  of  the 
Republic  on  the  high-road  to  Utopia.  But  the  formal 
flower-beds,  without  which  no  self-respecting  Plaza  is 
complete,  have  either  proved  too  much  for  the  energies  of 
the  civic  gardener  or  too  great  a strain  on  the  exchequer, 
for  they  are  not ; only  some  rusty  benches  are  there  and 
a weather-beaten  band-stand.  The  Cathedral  is  undergoing 
repairs.  All  cathedrals  seem  to  require  continual  atten- 
tion in  this  climate;  anti-clericals  will  tell  you  that  the 
fact  is  closely  connected  with  Church  and  State  finance. 
The  few  battered  old  carriages  that  ply  for  hire  look  as  if 
funerals  were  their  speciality;  occasionally  the  dogs  and 
the  dignified  drowsiness  of  the  place  are  rudely  disturbed  for 
a moment  by  some  Ford  car,  coming  in  from  the  “ camp.” 
It  draws  up  at  the  confiteria  by  the  corner  of  the  Plaza, 
where  two  or  three  of  the  railway  staff  are  playing  dominoes 
(there  are  only  three  through  passenger  trains  a week 
nowadays),  and  for  a few  moments  there  are  signs  of  life. 
Men  emerge  leisurely  from  shops  and  cafes  and  stroll 
across  the  Square,  to  pass  the  time  of  day  with  Don 
Felipe  or  Don  Enrique,  as  the  case  may  be. 

They  say  that  Mercedes  is  a hundred  years  old  and  that 
it  contains  15,000  inhabitants.  If  so,  one  can  only  wonder 
where  they  are  and  what  they  do  with  themselves  all  the 
day  long,  for  both  the  Plaza  and  the  Rambla  (the  broad 
promenade  which  runs  along  the  river  bank)  have  a 
curiously  unfrequented  appearance,  even  at  the  hour  when 
one  would  naturally  expect  to  find  all  the  world  and  his 
wife  taking  the  air.  It  may  be — who  knows  ? — that  both 


176  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


the  population  and  the  promenade  have  purposely  been 
exaggerated,  as  the  result  of  the  strange  competitive  pride 
of  place  from  which  the  best  of  towns  are  not  exempt ; but 
whatever  the  explanation,  Mercedes  on  a winter’s  morning 
is  about  as  lively  as  a mortuary  chapel.  Even  when  one 
has  made  all  possible  allowance  for  one’s  own  ignorance  of 
the  real  inwardness  of  things  and  of  the  true  conditions  of 
life  in  this  amazing  sleepy  hollow,  when  one  has  been  told 
that  practically  all  the  revenues  of  the  City  Fathers  avail- 
able for  public  works  are  drawn  from  a 3 per  cent,  tax  on 
rentals,  there  are  some  things  about  Mercedes  that  only 
sleeping  sickness  can  account  for.  The  history  of  the 
Rowing  Club  is  a striking  case  in  point.  It  was  organised 
as  the  result  of  an  energetic  crusade  by  an  Englishman, 
Professor  of  Enghsh  and  Instructor  of  Gymnastics  at  the 
local  College.  The  idea  was  welcomed  with  all  the  fervent 
enthusiasm  which  distinguishes  the  South  American  on 
such  occasions,  subscriptions  rolled  in,  a fine  hst  of  mem- 
bers was  published,  and  four  boats  were  ordered  from 
England.  But  when  they  came  out,  and  the  prospect  of 
serious  physical  exertion  became  dangerously  imminent, 
some  of  the  members  remembered  important  business,  and 
others  that  they  had  married  a wife,  and  eventually  the 
list  dwindled  to  eight  stalwarts.  And  when  it  came  to 
picking  crews,  each  and  every  one  of  the  eight  firmly 
declined  to  be  anything  but  cox.  Eventually  the  boats 
were  sold,  and  the  Rowing  Club  passed  silently  into 
oblivion. 

And  again,  what  explanation  other  than  cobwebbed 
inertia  can  account  for  the  fact  that  a town  of  this  size  is 
content  to  depend  chiefly  upon  Montevideo  and  Buenos 
Aires  for  its  supply  of  fresh  vegetables,  poultry  and  pork  ? 
There  is  evidently  a fortune  waiting  here  for  an  energetic 
market  gardener  and  dairy  farmer,  but  so  far  as  one  can 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


177 


see,  no  sign  of  any  one  wanting  to  earn  it.  Scotchmen 
please  note.  The  price  of  apples — poor  things  at  best — 
was  8o  cents  (nearly  four  shillings)  a dozen  in  May  1916, 
and  the  cost  of  tomatoes,  potatoes,  milk,  eggs  and  other 
things  equally  high.  Even  if  the  physical  and  mental 
initiative  is  lacking  to  make  the  community  self-supporting 
in  the  matter  of  these  necessities,  one  would  have  thought 
that  here  and  there  an  energetic  Italian  might  have  seized 
the  opportunity  to  cultivate  a lucrative  quinta,  for  every 
housewife  in  the  place  will  call  upon  all  the  saints  to  witness 
that  the  dealers  of  Buenos  Aires  are  thieves  and  robbers. 

And  lastly,  observe  the  Rambla,  where  the  mystery 
deepens  and  one  wonders  how  a race  so  instinctively  and 
naturally  graceful  and  artistic  can  tolerate  so  hideous  a 
defacement  of  a scene  that  might  so  easily  be  made  a thing 
of  beauty.  It  would  only  require  trees  and  shrubs  in 
the  right  place,  a good  stone  facing  and  wrought  ironwork 
balustrade,  to  make  a promenade  in  which  the  citizens 
might  take  pleasure  and  pride.  As  it  is,  the  place  is  a 
monument  in  mud  and  monstrous  decoration  to  the  gods 
of  noontide  slumber  and  insouciance.  The  City  Fathers, 
or  whoever  is  supposed  to  attend  to  these  things,  have 
permitted  an  Italian  mecanico  to  carry  out  a scheme  of 
decoration  framed  on  the  Coney  Island  model,  with  hideous 
biograph  kiosks,  coloured  glass  fountains,  merry-go-rounds, 
penny-in-the-slot  machines,  and  other  abominations. 
And  as  all  the  water  front  is  littered  with  the  debris 
cast  up  by  the  river  in  its  last  creciente,  the  general 
effect  is  rather  that  of  the  approach  to  an  Alaskan  mining 
camp  than  that  of  a respectable  town  with  a cathedral 
and  a hundred  years  of  corporate  hfe.  The  most  pictur- 
esque object  in  Mercedes,  typical  too  in  its  way,  is  the  hull 
of  an  Italian  steamer,  lying  high  and  dry,  twenty  yards 

above  the  river,  where  the  floods  left  it  years  ago. 

N 


178  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


As  a general  rule,  the  traveller  stranded  for  a day  in  a 
town  like  this  may  get  a considerable  amount  of  human 
interest  and  diversion  by  the  simple  process  of  sitting  at 
the  sola  window,  or  on  the  balcony  overlooking  the  street, 
and  “ making  time,”  as  they  say,  by  watching  men  and 
events.  For  even  in  the  dullest  of  sleepy  hollows,  there 
is  always  something  doing,  something  that  gives  one  gently 
to  think,  some  new  sidelight  throvm  on  the  human 
comedy.  But  here,  not  being  the  possessor  of  a sola  or 
street-commanding  balcony,  and  having  exhausted  all 
the  resources  of  the  town  long  before  siesta  time,  I sought 
and  found  refuge  from  boredom  in  watching  la  Senora 
Padrona  of  the  Hotel  de  Paris  at  the  handling  of  her 
business  and  her  family,  and  the  entertainment  of  numer- 
ous friends  and  clients,  who  looked  in  apparently  for  no 
particular  purpose  and  remained  for  the  same  good  reason. 
A " clane,  dacent  woman”  is  the  Senora;  who  speaks 
cheerfully,  yet  as  one  having  authority,  to  all  men,  takes 
her  leisurely  mate  at  all  hours,  and  yet  brings  up  her  family 
like  Christians  and  keeps  her  household  in  good  order. 
On  further  acquaintance  she  proved  to  be  something 
of  a philosopher,  which,  in  a woman,  means  one  who  has 
reached  the  half-way  house  of  Wisdom  that  stands  between 
the  states  of  uncomfortable  fussiness  and  unseemly  sloth. 

During  the  day,  her  own  offspring  being  at  school, 
Madame’s  maternal,  sociable  and  human  instincts  became 
greatly  concerned  with  a httle  family — father,  mother  and 
three  children — who  had  come  from  a neighbouring  estancia 
to  take  the  next  day’s  train  for  Montevideo.  From  a coign 
of  vantage  on  the  balcony  overlooking  the  patio,  I also 
found  myself  gradually  taking  a keen  interest  in  this 
family.  The  mother,  it  seems,  was  an  invahd  and  going 
to  the  capital  to  consult  a speciahst ; meanwhile  the  chil- 
dren (two  girls  of  four  and  six  years  and  a baby  of  two) 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


179 


were  being  looked  after  and  amused  by  their  father,  a 
tall  handsome  man  of  about  forty,  who  not  only  played 
the  role  of  nurse  and  governess  to  perfection,  but  seemed 
thoroughly  to  enjoy  it.  To  watch  these  four  at  dinner 
was  a lesson  in  good  manners  and  the  amenities  of  family 
life ; the  genuine  camaraderie  existing  between  them,  the 
children’s  complete  freedom  from  awkward  shyness  or 
pertness,  and  the  father’s  evident  pleasure  in  the  success 
of  his  talents  as  an  entertainer,  were  very  pleasant  things 
to  see.  Especially  edifying  was  the  dignity  and  savoir-faire 
of  the  httle  lady  who  played  hostess.  After  dinner  they 
all  played  games  in  the  patio,  and  it  was  clear  that  father’s 
education  in  games  was  no  mere  surface  pohsh. 

When  one  notes  the  genuine,  almost  Oriental  philo- 
progenitiveness of  the  Latin- American  peoples,  the  absence 
of  serious  economic  pressure,  the  South  American  woman’s 
maternal  instincts  and  natural  fecundity,  and  the  laws 
which  recognise  and  regulate  the  result  of  her  mate’s 
polygamous  tendencies,  one  can  only  wonder  that  popula- 
tion in  this  part  of  the  world  does  not  increase  more 
rapidly.  Nowhere,  not  even  in  Japan,  is  more  care  and 
kindness  displayed  towards  children  than  here.  The 
culto  del  nino  is  almost  a national  rehgion  and  indeed 
something  of  an  obsession — no  public  ceremony  is  complete 
without  its  parades  and  processions  of  school  children. 

I imagine  that  from  the  woman’s  point  of  view  (and  women 
have  much  to  do  with  education  in  South  America) 
children  mean  more  to  the  stability  of  the  marriage  state 
than  they  do  in  Anglo-Saxon  communities;  they  stand 
more  emphatically  for  the  permanence  of  hearth  and  home. 
Even  amongst  the  working  classes  in  the  towns,  a man  may 
be  lawless  and  wayward,  yet  his  affection  for  his  children 
will  hold  the  home  together,  as  the  Cinema  is  never  weary 
of  showing.  It  is  probably  for  this  reason  that  the  cult  of 


180  IMEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

the  child  has  assumed  its  present  importance  in  the  social 
and  civic  hfe  of  South  America.  All  sorts  of  philanthropic 
societies  work  for  it  in  many  ways,  and  the  Press  waxes 
very  sentimental  on  the  subject;  the  primary  schools 
are  generally  excellent,  and  their  discipline  surprisingly 
good. 

But  there  are  drawbacks  to  the  cult  of  el  nino,  as  to  most 
good  things  in  a world  of  wickedness.  In  a state  of  society 
addicted  to  early  marriages,  it  often  happens  that  when 
the  children  have  grown  up,  family  hfe  becomes  dull, 
and  the  middle-aged  husband,  having  few  or  none  of  the 
social  and  sporting  alleviations  that  an  Anglo-Saxon 
would  take  to  in  such  case,  is  led  to  seek  distractions 
outside  it.  His  polygamous  and  philoprogenitive  in- 
stincts then  find  satisfaction  in  an  irregular  liaison;  and 
the  law  ordains  that  the  offspring  of  such  morganatic 
connections  are  entitled  to  a share  of  their  father’s  property 
at  his  death.  The  farther  you  get  from  the  seaboard 
and  the  cities,  the  franker  becomes  society’s  acceptance 
of  irregular  parentage.  In  most  places  there  are  a con- 
siderable number  of  surplus  women,  all  hungry  for  mater- 
nity, so  that  the  cult  of  el  nino  becomes  a very  comphcated 
business.  In  the  interior,  and  most  notably  in  Brazil 
and  Paraguay,  one  frequently  hears  of  progenitors  of 
the  patriarchal  type,  whose  wild  and  tame  oats  have  been 
sowm  in  such  profusion  as  to  give  them  more  than  local 
celebrity.  One  case  of  the  kind  I noted  at  Asunfion, 
where,  at  the  death  of  one  of  these  prohfic  grandsires, 
the  number  of  fihal  claims  on  the  estate  was  close  upon  a 
hundred.  As  in  the  East,  barrenness  in  a woman  affords 
in  itself  moral  justification  for  her  husband  to  contract 
new  ties  more  or  less  sub  rosa.  If  under  these  conditions 
the  population  does  not  double  itself  in  twenty-five  years, 
it  must  either  be  because  the  pubhc  health  is  imperfectly 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


181 


protected  in  many  parts  of  the  country,  or  because  the 
proportion  of  the  male  population  which  leads  cehbate 
or  sterile  hves,  especially  among  the  " camp  ” peon  class,  is 
larger  than  is  commonly  supposed. 

The  train  for  Montevideo  leaves  Mercedes  at  eight  in  the 
morning,  being  of  the  kind  which  declined  to  be  hurried 
on  its  journeyings.  It  puts  on  no  frills,  this  Ferro-Carril 
Central,  either  in  the  matter  of  speed  or  equipment ; but 
it  is  a nice  easy-going,  hail-fellow-weU-met  sort  of  hne, 
and  when  you  travel  on  it  you  feel  as  if  you  had  been 
invited  to  join  a pleasant  family  circle  in  a Sunday  sociable. 
Incidentally  also  you  pick  up  a lot  of  miscellaneous  infor- 
mation in  a day’s  journey,  because  everybody  in  the  train 
knows  everybody  else,  and  nearly  every  one  has  a thousand 
things  that  he  \vishes  to  talk  about  to  any  one  who  wiU 
listen,  with  much  wealth  of  narrative  and  detail.  At 
every  station  there  is  generally  somebody  or  something 
worth  seeing,  estancieros  of  the  neighbourhood  coming 
down  to  see  a friend  en  passant  or  to  collect  a parcel,  from 
whose  cheery  conversation  you  gather  that  Don  Enrique’s 
estimable  wife  has  joyfully  presented  him  with  twins, 
that  Don  Juan’s  cattle  have  been  dying  by  the  score, 
through  eating  of  thistles,  and  that  there  is  trouble  at  the 
estancia  “ Tres  Montes  ” because  of  a httle  matter  of  a 
boundary  fence  removed  and  a “ point  ” of  sheep  missing. 

There  are  generally  a few  picturesque  Gauchos,  lounging 
about  as  gracefully  as  if  they  really  had  nothing  to  do, 
though  their  horses,  tied  up  at  the  station  pulperia,  tell 
plainly  of  the  long  trail;  the  usual  motley  collection  of 
dogs,  reveahng  possibilities  hitherto  unsuspected  in  the 
matter  of  mesalliances  and  affaires  de  cceur  ; a couple  of 
magisterial  pohcemen — one  hardly  hkes  to  speak  of  these 
dignitaries  by  that  modest  title;  and  a httle  group  of 
peons,  smoking  eternal  cigarettes — slender  wiry  fellows 


182  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

in  whose  natural  ease  of  bearing  and  good  manners,  a nice 
blend  of  simplicity  and  punctilio,  I find  never-ending 
pleasure,  even  when  their  clothes  are  horrible  imported 
reach-me-downs  and  when  they  wear  their  trousers 
tucked  into  their  socks  (suspenders  therefore  in  evidence) 
with  luxuriously  inefficient  zapatas  that  look  hke  Japanese 
shoes.  These  sons  of  the  soil  carry  themselves  like  self- 
respecting,  self-reliant  free  men,  autocrats  with  the  saving 
grace  of  courtesy.  There  are  comparatively  few  women 
to  be  seen  either  on  the  train  or  at  the  stations. 

Amongst  the  estancieros  in  the  dining-car  the  conversa- 
tion is  nearly  all  “ shop,”  yet,  because  of  the  multifarious 
activities  of  life  on  the  *'  camp,”  and  because  in  a gathering 
like  this  you  get  it  reflected  from  several  points  of  view,  it 
is  seldom  devoid  of  interest  or  wearisome.  The  movement 
of  locusts,  the  price  of  wool,  the  latest  visitations  of  gara- 
pata  (tick)  or  foot-and-mouth  disease,  the  manifold  dis- 
eases of  sheep,  droughts  and  floods,  and,  above  all,  as  a 
perpetual  feast,  the  virtues  and  vices  of  horses,  these  are 
the  staples  and  stand-bys  of  conversation,  wherever  one 
or  two  are  gathered  together.  Some  talk  there  is  of 
sport,  of  depredations  by  hichos,  some  local  gossip  and 
tales  of  feuds  and  courtships;  but  remarkably  little, 
when  you  come  to  think  of  it,  either  of  politics  or  the 
world  war,  and  very  little  philosophy.  It  is  an  elemental 
world  of  simple  things,  worked  out  on  a big  scale,  this 
world  of  flocks  and  herds,  and  the  talk  of  the  men  who 
inhabit  it  is  unsophisticated,  racy  of  the  soil,  and  therefore, 
to  the  stranger,  edifying.  It  is  only  when  they  elect  to 
talk  of  the  horse  by  the  hour  and  with  appalling  techni- 
cality of  endless  detail,  that  I find  myself  frankly  bored. 

The  distance  between  Mercedes  and  Montevideo  is 
roughly  150  miles,  and  the  train  takes  between  nine 
and  ten  hours  over  it.  As  you  approach  the  capital. 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


183 


the  country  becomes  more  plentifully  dotted  with 
clumps  and  groves  of  trees — very  seldom  do  they  attain 
to  the  dignity  of  little  woods — and  the  estancias  lose 
something  of  the  air  of  dignified  seclusion  which  distin- 
guishes them  further  afield.  After  passing  Santa  Lucia, 
two  or  three  stations  from  the  capital,  the  journey  ceases 
to  be  of  the  peaceful  family  party  complexion,  for  at  this 
point  the  train  is  invaded  by  an  evil-smelling,  raucous- 
tongued  crowd  of  hotel  touts,  cab  and  taxi  runners,  and 
lottery  ticket  sellers,  who  jostle  and  hustle  each  other  and 
pester  the  passengers  with  amazing  effrontery.  No  doubt 
all  these  estimable  cadgers  are  influential  voters  when 
they  are  at  home,  and  very  possibly  the  powers  that  be 
may  consider  it  inexpedient  to  curtail  their  facilities  for 
this  kind  of  joy-riding.  The  travelling  pubhc  cannot 
reasonably  expect  to  receive  treatment  as  favourable  as 
the  great  unwashed,  in  a democratic  state  where  political 
influence  is  all  a question  of  numbers;  but  all  the  same, 
there  is  a point  at  which  the  lowliest  worm  should  turn, 
and  even  a Railway  Company  has  its  dignity  to  preserve. 

The  average  Uruguayan  is  content  to  take  the  railway 
as  he  finds  it,  and  only  abuses  the  Company  as  a mono- 
polistic obstructor  of  trade  development,  but  an  impartial 
outsider  would  probably  say  that  the  public  gets  the  service 
it  deserves.  Even  under  normal  conditions,  the  Company 
does  not  make  profits  enough  to  encourage  further  appeals 
for  capital  from  abroad,  and  the  war  price  of  coal  added 
£50,000  a year  to  its  working  expenses.  As  a matter  of 
fact,  making  due  allowance  for  the  restrictions  and  im- 
provements imposed  on  it  by  officialdom,  the  railway 
management  would  appear  to  be  doing  its  best  to  develop 
traffic  in  agricultural  produce,  and  to  display  a very 
creditable  amount  of  initiative,  and  the  real  source  of  its 
troubles,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  lies  with  the  agrarians. 


184  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


One  need  not  be  a prophet  or  an  augur  to  perceive  that 
the  one  thing  needful  for  the  development  of  the  country 
(and  with  it  of  the  railway)  is  good  roads,  and  plenty  of 
them,  throughout  the  interior.  I have  met  with  estan- 
cieros  who  recognised  this  fundamental  truth  and  who 
would  be  glad  to  contribute  their  fair  share  for  a compre- 
hensive scheme  to  make  and  maintain  roads  for  motor 
lorry  traffic ; but  as  a general  rule,  they  prefer  to  stick  to 
the  good  old  hoary  system  which  isolates  the  eslancias 
of  any  district  when  the  rivers  happen  to  be  in  flood, 
and  which  means  sending  produce  and  bringing  in  mate- 
rials, either  by  slow  bullock- wagons  or  eight -horse  team, 
over  the  vilest  of  makeshift  mud  roads.  One  would 
imagine  that  a government  which  proclaims  the  democratic 
and  progressive  gospel  according  to  Senor  Battle  would 
perceive  the  futihty  of  encouraging  the  immigration  of 
colonists  and  chacreros  (agriculturists)  without  first 
evolving  a practical  road-making  pohcy.  One  would 
even  think  that  the  agrarian  might  be  led  by  an  educative 
campaign  to  perceive  that  good  roads  would  not  only  bring 
them  greatly  increased  wealth,  but  would  put  an  end  to 
many  of  the  uncomfortable  and  unprofitable  crudities  of 
“ camp  ” life.  They  don’t  see  it,  or  the  roads  would  soon 
be  there. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  the  Railway  Station  building  at 
Montevideo  is  almost  magnificent  enough,  with  its  statues 
and  long  marble  corridors,  to  make  one  forget  the  slowness 
of  the  train  and  the  price  of  the  ticket.  From  the  non- 
traveUing  citizen’s  point  of  view,  all  is  surely  for  the  best. 


CHAPTER  X 


URUGUAY  : SOME  REFLECTIONS  ON  THE  ART  OF 
GOVERNMENT 

Compared  with  other  cities  of  South  America,  Monte- 
video possesses  a peculiar  and  distinctive  quality  of 
restfulness.  There  is  something  in  the  general  appearance 
and  atmosphere  of  the  place  and  its  inhabitants  that 
suggests  the  influence  of  a pleasant,  leisurely,  contempla- 
tive philosophy  behind  its  material  prosperity.  The  cult 
of  manana  and  mas  6 menos  appears  to  be  more 
splendidly  dignified  here  than  elsewhere,  and  possibly 
more  justified  by  results.  To  my  traveller’s  mind,  which 
is  often  pleased  to  think  of  cities  as  types  of  humanity 
(like  the  tutelary  figures  in  the  Place  de  la  Concorde,  only 
less  classically  solemn),  Montevideo  resembles  a placid 
and  prosperous  widow,  buxom,  yet  comely,  oblivious  of 
the  past  and  hopeful  for  the  future,  with  a fondness  for 
good  victuals,  an  incurable  penchant  for  gambling,  and, 
withal,  a very  fair  idea  of  how  to  enjoy  life.  While 
keeping  a watchful  eye  on  Mrs.  Grundy,  comfort  and  les 
convenances  are  her  watchwords ; and  if,  beside  these,  she 
can  contrive  to  keep  a good  conscience,  all  the  better. 

Comfort  she  certainly  enjoys;  there  is  probably  no 
country  on  earth  so  well  off,  actually  and  prospectively, 
as  Uruguay,  and,  on  the  whole,  there  is  none  in  South 
America  that  has  made  more  intelligent  use  of  its  excep- 
tionally favourable  situation  and  rich  resources.  The 
fact  that  it  is  only  a very  small  country,  with  less 
than  half  the  population  of  Ireland,  makes  its  record 

185 


186  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


and  position  all  the  more  enviable.  Your  town-bred 
Uruguayan  is  a keen  politician,  or,  rather,  a keen  partisan, 
but  the  small  size  of  the  country,  and  the  idiosyncrasies 
of  its  neighbours,  have  taught  the  Government  to  season 
socialism  with  common  sense  and  to  temper  Chauvinism 
with  discretion.  Mutatis  mutandis,  narrow  limits  of 
territory,  encompassed  by  powerful  neighbours,  have 
produced  similar  results  in  Switzerland,  which,  alone  of  all 
the  democracies  of  Europe,  has  shown  that  government 
of  the  people,  for  the  people,  and  by  the  people,  is  not  an 
absolutely  impossible  ideal. 

Far  be  it  from  me  to  suggest  that  Uruguayan  politicians, 
as  such,  are  different  from  or  superior  to  those  of  other 
countries,  or  that  Senores  Battle,  Viera  and  Brum  have 
travelled  any  further  on  the  road  to  the  millennium  than 
our  own  leaders  and  misleaders  of  Demos.  If  one  may 
judge  by  the  things  which  they  themselves  say  and  write 
about  each  other,  the  world,  the  flesh  and  the  devil  are 
likely  to  be  made  free  for  democracy  in  these  parts  at  about 
the  same  time  as  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Wilson  arrive  at  Utopia 
by  way  of  the  League  of  Nations  and  the  Monroe  doctrine. 
But  there  is  this  to  be  said  of  politics  on  a small  scale,  in 
a country  where  everybody  knows  and  watches  everybody 
else,  that  when  a man  becomes  prominent,  if  he  can’t  be 
good,  he  must  be  careful,  and  this  is  a fact  that  makes 
for  decency  and  restraint.  MTiere  there  is  no  possibility 
of  disappearing  in  a crowd,  respect  for  outward  appear- 
ances is  bound  to  play  a big  part  in  public  life.  Then, 
too,  experiments  in  the  way  of  social  and  political  reform 
are  much  more  satisfactory  playthings  here  than  in 
Europe ; a dreamer  of  dreams,  like  Senor  Battle,  has  a far 
better  chance  of  translating  words  into  works  than  Briand 
ever  could  have  had  in  France,  or  Lloyd  George  in  England, 
for  the  simple  reason  that,  in  applying  his  theories,  he  is 


VIEW  NEAR  COLONIA,  URUGUAY 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


187 


dealing  with  a prosperous  community  about  the  size  of 
London  South-West,  homogenous,  intellectually  active, 
and  patriotically  pleased  at  anything  which  confers  glory 
on  the  Banda  Oriental.  With  money  and  ideas  to  spare, 
it  is  evidently  easier  for  Uruguay  than  for  China  or  Russia 
to  work  out  interesting  reforms  in  education,  public 
health,  or  the  treatment  of  lunatics,  but  this  does  not 
make  the  processes  and  results  of  her  administrative 
activity  any  the  less  creditable. 

On  lofty  heights  of  humanitarianism  and  romantic 
idealism,  remote  from  the  reaUties  and  unconscious  of  the 
fierceness  of  the  struggle  for  life  in  other  parts  of  the 
world,  your  South-American  Latin  builds  dream  castles 
of  the  most  picturesque  and  attractive  kind  and  fills  them 
with  happy  Arcadians.  The  only  trouble  about  them  is 
that  the  splendid  theories  of  government  and  social  reform 
represented  by  Uruguay’s  laws  and  projects  of  law  make 
little  or  no  allowance  for  unregenerate  human  nature. 
To  put  it  plainly,  they  ignore  the  fact  that  there  is  a good 
deal  of  the  Old  Adam  even  in  the  New  World.  The  value 
of  a law  depends  less  upon  its  wording  than  its  working, 
and  in  Uruguay  the  best-laid  plans  of  earnest  reformers 
at  the  Ministry  of  Justice  or  Agriculture  may  be  brought 
to  nought — and  indeed  they  are — by  the  dishonesty  of  a 
comisario  or  the  ignorance  of  a juez. 

The  new  House  of  Congress,  which  has  been  in  process 
of  construction  since  1906,  presents  an  instructive  object 
lesson,  a sermon  in  stones,  on  the  lamentable  difference 
between  the  aspirations  and  the  achievements  of  poU- 
ticians.  When  it  is  finished  it  will,  no  doubt,  be  a very 
magnificent  home  for  officialdom,  but  nobody  seems  to 
know  or  care  to  what  length  of  years  the  contractors  are 
going  to  spin  out  the  job,  which  common  report  describes 
as  unusually  lucrative.  So  far  as  outward  appearances 


188  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


go,  the  building  was  in  much  the  same  state  when  I saw  it 
last  in  June  1919,  as  it  was  in  the  summer  of  1916.  At 
that  date  the  cost  had  already  run  to  considerably  over  a 
million  sterling.  It  is  going  to  be  marble-faced,  all 
glorious  without,  this  Palacio  Legislativo,  and  a marvel 
of  modern  decoration  within,  but  if  half  that  men  say 
about  it  is  true,  there  is  graft  as  well  as  art  about  the 
building  of  the  Uruguayan  House  of  Parliament.  In 
this  respect  it  woMd  seem  to  be  a fitting  habitation  for 
the  curious  admixture  of  lofty  idealism  and  Tammany 
tricks  which  constitutes  Uruguayan  politics,  for  the 
strange  medley  of  dreamers  and  schemers  who  represent 
the  primitive  pastoral  communities  of  the  Banda  Oriental. 

But  despite  the  ultra  modernity  of  its  politicians  and 
learned  professions,  despite  the  pretensions  typified  in  its 
public  buildings,  Montevideo  preserves  far  more  than  any 
other  city  of  South  America  the  serenity  and  simpHcity 
of  that  life  of  flocks  and  herds  which  lies  all  around  and 
about  it;  nor  is  this  remarkable  when  one  remembers 
that  this  is  Uruguay’s  only  city,  and  that  its  inhabitants — 
representing  about  a quarter  of  the  country’s  population — 
live  and  have  their  being  on,  by,  and  because  of,  the 
" camp.”  Such  “ idle  rich  ” as  there  are  have  generally 
made  their  money  directly  or  indirectly  out  of  estancias  ; 
the  bulk  of  the  city’s  trade  lies  in  handhng  the  produce 
of  the  rolling  potreros,  or  in  importing  such  things  as 
estancieros  need.  AU  industry  and  economics  being 
centred  in  the  production  of  food  in  the  grand  patriarchal 
manner,  society,  even  when  it  gets  its  gowns  from  Paris 
and  pays  $50  to  hear  Caruso,  naturally  retains  a good 
deal  of  the  pastoral  atmosphere,  many  of  the  quahties 
and  defects  of  the  simple,  tribal  mind.  Thus,  men  and 
women  in  Montevideo  know  all  about  each  other,  just  as 
people  do  in  Ireland;  their  conversation  bristles  with 


IN  SOUTH  MIERICA 


189 


genealogical  details  and  revels  in  a horribly  accurate 
memory  for  family  skeletons.  Strictly  speaking,  society 
has  not  emerged  beyond  the  stage  of  a conglomeration  of 
family  parties,  and  this  chiefly  because  of  the  position 
imposed  upon  (and  generally  accepted  by)  woman  under 
the  existing  patriarchal  system.  Which  subject  is 
entitled  to  a chapter  to  itself,  infra. 

The  Plaza  Matriz — Mother  of  all  the  Plazas,  whose 
plane  trees  and  paraisos  make  oases  of  grateful  shade 
throughout  the  city — seems  to  me  to  illustrate  and  typify 
the  unsophisticated  conservatism  which  counts  for  more 
in  the  real  life  of  the  nation  than  the  latest  panaceas 
extracted  by  Battle  and  his  henchmen  from  the  wisdom 
of  Mr.  Wilson,  Lloyd  George,  Liebknecht  and  Lenin.  It 
is  only  a little  Plaza,  devised  by  the  Spaniards  on  the  same 
modest  scale  which  made  the  streets  just  wide  enough  for 
two  Caballeros  or  caches  to  pass  each  other  comfortably; 
it  is  not  half  the  size  of  the  Plaza  Independencia,  where 
the  band  plays  amidst  waving  palms.  But  it  remains, 
nevertheless,  the  centre  of  social  and  civic  life,  a pleasant 
place  of  green  grass,  and  flower-beds  gathered  about  a 
graceful  fountain,  where  able-bodied  loafers  can  take  their 
ease,  and  see  the  doings  of  the  outside  world  recorded  on 
the  Razon’s  news-boards  without  stirring  from  their 
seats.  There  is  a good  deal  of  hustle  and  bustle  about  the 
Plaza,  besides  the  Razon’s  breezy  bulletins;  tramways 
that  seem  to  run  on  endless  chains,  with  clamorous  bells 
that  remind  one  of  the  nightmare  chaos  at  Brooklyn 
Bridge;  hotels,  clubs  and  fashionable  shops,  and  a hne 
of  taxi-cabs  that  might  easily  be  mistaken  for  private 
cars.  But  amidst  and  above  them  all,  facing  each  other 
across  the  square  with  the  quiet  dignity  of  reverend 
seigneurs  that  have  seen  many  a prelate  and  politician 
strut  and  fret  his  httle  hour  before  passing  to  oblivion. 


190  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

stand  the  Cathedral  and  the  “ Representacion  Nacional.” 
They  have  witnessed  the  decline  and  fall  of  the  power  of 
Spain,  these  two,  they  have  seen  the  birth  and  childhood 
of  the  Repubhc,  and  both  have  known  better  days;  but 
they  seem,  nevertheless,  to  smile  confidently  at  each 
other  above  the  clamour  of  the  news-boys  and  lottery 
ticket  touts  and  to  typify  that  fundamental  and  philo- 
sophic quality  of  restfulness  which  is  distinctive  of 
Montevideo.  The  Government  in  power  may  build 
itself  new  palaces,  it  may  ban  the  Church  and  abolish  all 
religious  festivals,  but  these  two  old  aristocrats  look  down 
serenely  on  their  native  Plaza,  where,  whatever  men  may 
do,  the  evening  breezes  sing  softly  as  ever  in  the  plane 
trees  and  the  blue  of  heaven  is  not  dimmed  by  the  warring 
of  sects  and  factions.  No  doubt  they  have  their  own 
opinion  as  to  the  benefits  which  humanity  is  hkely  to 
derive  from  party  politics,  as  perfected  in  the  twentieth 
century. 

Far  be  it  from  me  to  profess  to  understand  the  actual 
differences  which  separate  the  ” Colorados  ” from  the 
" Blancos  ” in  this  part  of  the  world.  I expect  that,  if 
the  truth  were  told,  they  would  appear  to  be  no  more 
fundamental  or  vital  than  the  differences  which  distinguish 
the  advanced  Liberalism  of  our  Runcimans  and  McKennas 
from  the  advanced  Conservatism  of  our  Birkenheads  and 
Bonar  Laws.  Stripped  of  all  verbiage,  the  essential 
differences  between  the  parties  seem  to  be  that  the  Reds 
are  In  and  the  Whites  are  Out.  Since  the  last  revolution 
(1905)  the  Blancos  have  been  palely  loitering  in  the 
wilderness;  the  Colorados  have  got  control  of  the  till, 
and,  to  judge  by  their  activity  and  organisation  at  the 
capital,  they  are  likely  to  keep  it.  From  this  it  may  be 
inferred  that  party  politics  in  the  Banda  Oriental  have 
not  yet  attained  to  that  superior  stage  of  evolution  in 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


191 


which  the  leaders  on  both  sides  agree  to  keep  up  the  game 
of  befooling  the  electorate  and  to  divide  the  proceeds  on 
the  Rotatavist,  or  " Front  Benches,  Limited,”  principle. 
Despite  the  undoubted  ability  and  imitative  talents  of 
Senor  Battle  and  his  chief  adherents,  the  pohcy  of  the 
Colorado  party  appears  to  be  based  upon  the  rudimentary 
plan  of  getting  your  opponent  down  and  sitting  on  his 
stomach. 

Outside  of  Montevideo,  amongst  the  healthy-minded 
workers,  by  and  upon  whose  labour  the  talkers  thrive, 
you  will  generally  hear  men  speak  of  politicians  as  they 
speak  of  lawyers,  as  necessary  evils,  crafty  animals, 
without  whom  the  complicated  affairs  of  city-dwellers 
could  not  be  regulated;  but  their  plans  and  stratagems 
are  usually  considered  unworthy  of  attention  or  discussion 
by  honest  open-air  men.  In  many  of  the  provinces  the 
Blancos  are  numerically  stronger  than  the  Colorados,  but 
possession  is  nine  parts  of  the  electoral  law,  and  the  ” Ins  ” 
have  got  a very  firm  hold  on  the  machinery  of  representa- 
tion. In  these  regions  one  hears  vague  talk  of  the  revolu- 
tion that  is  always  coming,  but,  as  times  go,  there  are  not 
enough  sufficiently  discontented  people  in  Montevideo  to 
organise  one ; the  Colorados  are  shrewd  enough  to  realise 
the  virtues  of  a panem  et  circenses  policy  and  to  cast  their 
bread  upon  waters  that  will  return  it  in  the  form  of  votes. 
From  the  point  of  view  of  productive  industry  and  of 
peace-loving  citizens,  it  may  be  a good  thing  that  the 
” Ins  ” should  dominate  the  “ Outs  ” by  a considerable 
margin  of  effective  force,  but,  pace  all  earnest  democrats, 
this  state  of  affairs  can  only  be  maintained  by  virtue  of 
the  preponderance  of  one  man’s  authority — visible  or  in- 
visible ; in  other  words,  by  something  akin  to  a dictator- 
ship, and  by  relegating  all  the  essentials  of  representative 
government  to  the  limbo  of  the  unattainable.  Senor 


192  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

Battle  may  be  all  the  evil  personages  rolled  into  one  of 
whom  his  enemies  speak,  but  he  certainly  seems  entitled  to 
considerable  credit  for  the  leadership  which  has  kept  the 
Colorados  in  the  saddle  so  long  and  the  country  free  from 
civil  strife. 

Battle  is  a new  species  of  pohtical  ruler,  very  different 
from  dictators  of  the  Rosas  and  Lopez,  or  even  the  Porfirio 
Diaz,  type,  yet  a very  effective  ruler  for  all  that,  and  all 
the  more  remarkable  because  of  the  fact  that  the  control 
which  he  exercises  over  the  Colorado  party  is  ostensibly 
that  of  a private  citizen.  His  is  the  ascendancy  of  an 
extremely  astute  politician,  who  combines  great  organising 
abihty  with  a forty- Wilson  power  of  fanatical  ideahsm, 
and  both  with  the  primordial  cunning  of  his  Indian 
ancestry.  The  Uruguayan  Constitution,  aiming  to  pre- 
vent any  citizen  of  the  Repubhc  from  enjoying  too  long 
a period  of  power,  does  not  permit  Battle  to  become 
President  again,  but  there  is  nothing,  either  in  the  Con- 
stitution or  in  the  present  evolution  of  the  nation’s 
pohtical  consciousness,  to  prevent  his  personality  from 
continuing  to  dominate,  as  it  does,  the  whole  policy  of 
the  Government.  The  last  two  Presidents — ^Viera  and 
Brum — have  held  office  by  his  good  pleasure,  and,  if  report 
speaks  truly,  carried  out  at  his  bidding  the  experiments 
in  sociahstic  legislation  which  are  the  breath  of  his  nostrils. 
In  private  hfe  a hard-working,  domesticated  person  of 
retiring  habit,  hon  ph'e  de  famille  ; a dreamer  of  dreams, 
and  yet  a very  forceful  character.  Judging  by  results, 
he  shares  with  many  of  the  forceful  characters  conspicuous 
in  our  modern  world  of  politics  a hasty  intolerance  of 
detail  and  the  contempt  for  aU  previous  human  experience 
in  sociology,  which  eagerly  proclaims  the  advent  of  the 
new  era  and  leaves  to  others  the  task  of  estimating  its 
cost  and  probable  consequences.  Speaking  as  an  out- 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


193 


sider,  and  without  means  of  knowing  for  certain  how 
much  of  Battle  is  sincere  ideahst  and  how  much  predatory 
politician,  the  moral  basis  of  his  schemes,  the  source  of 
his  authority,  and  the  general  tenor  of  his  ordinances 
appear  to  be  just  as  unimpeachable  as  (shall  we  say) 
those  of  Mr.  Lloyd  George,  and  indeed  to  bear  a curious 
family  likeness  thereto ; but  the  trouble  is,  that  the  laws 
which  he  has  made,  and  those  which  he  continues  to  make 
by  proxy,  are  based  on  the  erroneous  assumption  that  the 
bureaucracy  is  sufficiently  educated  to  apply,  and  the 
nation  to  observe,  them.  A marble-faced  Palace  of 
Justice  and  the  most  elaborate  of  judicial  codes  will  not 
serve  to  protect  industrious  citizens,  either  from  unjust 
judges  or  from  grafters  in  high  places. 

If  you  ask  a Blanco  what  are  his  grievances  against 
the  Colorados,  he  will  tell  you  that  they  are  greedy  and 
godless  schemers,  who  secure  the  votes  of  the  industrial 
town-bred  workers,  and  especially  of  the  aliens  among 
them,  by  shameless  sops  and  bribes  and  by  legislation 
which  is  the  epitome  of  class  jealousy  and  mahce.  If 
you  ask  a Colorado  what  he  thinks  of  the  Blancos,  he 
will  tell  you  that  they  are  a priest-ridden  lot  of  mediaeval 
money-grubbers,  and  that  their  policy  is  simply  the 
maintenance  of  the  capitalist  class  in  its  unjust  privileges. 
But  contemplate  the  whole  business  in  a spirit  of  philo- 
sophical detachment,  and  you  perceive  that  the  real 
struggle  is  precisely  the  same  as  that  which  industrialism, 
so-called  democracy,  and  the  defective  education  of  the 
masses  have  produced  in  Europe,  a blind  struggle  between 
the  Haves  and  the  Have-nots,  in  which  civilisation  is 
cast  into  the  melting-pot  and  sends  a good  deal  of  its 
scum  to  the  top.  You  perceive  in  Uruguay,  and  all  the 
more  clearly  because  causes  and  results  are  worked  out 

on  a small  scale,  that  the  real  trouble  of  modern  democracy 
o 


194  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


lies  in  the  fact  that  its  godfathers,  in  their  haste,  omitted 
to  provide  for  its  education  in  discipline  and  the  duties 
of  citizenship,  not  to  speak  of  elementary  economics.  So 
that  the  mob,  in  choosing  its  rulers,  is  unable  to  distinguish 
between  wise  men  and  windbags,  between  earnest  patriots 
and  fanatical  dreamers. 

Uruguay’s  representative  at  the  Versailles  conference. 
Dr.  Varela  Acevedo,  an  earnest  patriot  and  a thinker, 
took  pride  in  reminding  the  European  Powers  that  many 
of  the  reforms  which  the  League  of  Nations  is  to  bring 
about,  in  the  way  of  international  legislation  for  Labour, 
have  already  been  introduced  in  Uruguay.  And  it  was 
with  no  small  satisfaction  that  Uruguayans  of  all  parties 
read  in  their  morning  papers,  that  President  Wilson  and 
Mr.  Lloyd  George  were  good  enough  to  congratulate  Dr. 
Acevedo  and  the  Republic  on  the  progressive  nature  of 
its  social  legislation.  Now,  there  is  no  doubt  at  all  as  to 
the  laudable  motives  of  the  worthy  gentlemen  who  frame 
these  reform  laws,  or  as  to  the  lofty  sentiments  which 
they  embody.  But  even  those  who  look  upon  Republican 
Constitutions  as  milestones  on  the  road  to  the  millennium, 
must  admit  that  the  value  of  a law  depends  upon  the 
possibility  of  its  just  and  general  application.  (Young 
China,  you  may  remember,  drew  up  a perfectly  splendid 
constitution,  providing  against  original  sin  and  all  other 
human  ills,  before  it  proceeded  to  embark  upon  its  career 
of  chaos,  corruption  and  crime.)  And  every  Uruguayan 
(unless  he  be  a politician  on  the  " In  ” side)  will  tell  you 
that,  between  the  law  as  framed  and  the  law  as  applied, 
there  is  wide  gulf  fixed,  which  only  the  blind  eye  of 
political  prejudice  can  fail  to  discern.  Any  one  with  an 
inclination  and  time  to  spare  to  study  in  extenso  the 
latest  developments  of  the  Uruguayan  Constitution,  will 
find  them  in  a book  published  by  a Professor  of  Consti- 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


195 


tutional  Law  at  Buenos  Aires  this  year  {El  gubierno  del 
Uruguay — a study  of  the  Reform  of  the  Constitution  in 
1917,  by  Professor  de  Vedia  y Mitre). 

If  I deal  at  this  length  with  the  political  aspect  of 
affairs  in  Uruguay,  it  is  because,  when  we  come  to  leave 
the  capital,  and  return,  so  to  speak,  to  our  muttons,  out 
yonder  in  the  ” camp,”  amongst  the  simple-minded  men 
who  live  and  move  in  large  clean  spaces,  the  fact  confronts 
us  at  every  turn  (though  these  herdsmen  and  tillers  of  the 
soil  perceive  it  not,  or  only  very  dimly)  that  for  all  the 
Government’s  boasts  of  progressive  legislation,  the  vital 
interests  of  the  country’s  essential  business  of  cattle- 
raising and  agriculture  are  recognised  in  theory,  but 
generally  neglected  in  practice.  While  the  Legislature, 
with  its  noble  head  in  the  clouds  and  its  hands  (some  of 
them,  at  all  events)  in  the  public  till,  produces  model 
statutes  concerning  the  eight-hours  day,  old  age  pensions, 
the  repos  hehdomadaire,  compulsory  education,  and  benefits 
of  all  kinds  for  organised  labour,  the  fundamental  business 
of  stimulating  agricultural  production,  and  of  protecting 
the  peon  and  chacreros,  producers  of  the  nation’s  wealth, 
advances  but  seldom  beyond  the  region  of  sterile  academics 
and  the  appointment  of  ever-increasing  inspectors,  com- 
missions and  battening  bureaucrats.  Two  facts  stand  out 
in  Uruguay  so  that  he  who  runs  may  read.  First,  that 
the  value  of  large  sections  of  grazing  land  has  been,  and 
is  being,  seriously  reduced  by  the  growth  of  espartillo 
grass  and  noxious  weeds,  and  that  only  by  ploughing  and 
sowing  can  its  proper  productivity  be  restored.  Second, 
that  until  adequate  means  of  transport  are  provided, 
beginning  with  good  roads,  agriculture,  beyond  a range 
of,  say,  fifteen  miles  from  a railway,  can  never  pay.  It 
is  evident  that  the  more  people  there  are  who  expect  to 
make  a living  out  of  politics,  the  less  public  money  there 


196  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


will  be  to  be  spent  on  improvements  beneficial  to  the 
community.  For  this  reason,  and  others  to  which  we 
shall  come  in  due  course,  all  the  progressive  social  legis- 
lation, with  which  Mr.  Lloyd  George  and  Mr.  Wilson  have 
been  so  pleased,  dies  away,  in  faint  echoes  of  sonorous 
platitudes,  long  before  it  reaches  the  son  of  the  soil.  And 
yet  it  is  the  latter’s  labour,  when  all  is  said  and  done, 
which  pays  for  the  motor-car  and  the  top-hat  of  the 
legislator  when  he  goes  a-racing  to  Maronas  on  Sundays. 
And  even  of  the  statutes  and  ordinances  devised  for  the 
benefit  of  the  town-bred  proletariat,  some,  such  as  Dr. 
Varela’s  boasted  female  labour  law,  exist,  so  far,  only  as 
pious  aspirations,  the  airy  nothings  of  professional  word- 
spinners;  others,  like  the  eight-hours  day,  were  never 
intended  to  apply  beyond  the  borders  of  industrial  labour, 
and,  even  there,  their  interpretation  is  often  extremely 
elastic. 

Of  course,  it  is  all  a matter  of  degree.  All  over  the 
world,  as  it  stands  to-day,  the  question  for  goverrunents 
to  decide  is  how  many  of  the  people  can  be  fooled  with 
impunity,  and  for  how  long;  and  the  answer  depends 
chiefly  on  the  kind  of  education  provided  by  the  last 
generation.  Then,  too,  the  nature  of  the  flapdoodle,  with 
which  masses  of  foolish  electors  are  fed,  requires  careful 
selection;  wherein  lies  the  craft  and  subtlety  of  the 
politician.  The  stuff  that  Sun-Yat-Sen  ladles  out  to 
Young  China,  for  example,  would  not  suit  the  digestion 
of  the  cultured  millions  who  swallow  the  sophistries  of 
Mr.  Wilson.  But  no  matter  which  road  we  travel,  the 
further  we  go  towards  that  distant  goal  where  the  remnants 
of  civilisation  are  going  to  be  safe  for  democracy,  the  more 
apparent  it  becomes  that  Demos  does  not  ask  consistency 
of  his  leaders.  Most  South  American  politicians  have 
learned  this  lesson;  nevertheless,  as  a simple  stranger 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


197 


and  a student  of  human  affairs,  I often  find  myself  amazed, 
here  as  in  England,  at  the  cynicism  with  which  they 
display  their  contempt  for  the  intelligence  of  the  public, 
and  traffic  on  the  lamentable  shortness  of  its  memory^ 
Take,  for  instance,  the  question  of  public  gambling — 
of  which  matter  Dr.  Varela  said  nothing  at  Versailles. 
In  the  sacred  name  of  charity,  the  Government  o\vns  and 
runs  a fashionable  seaside  hotel  at  the  Parque  Urbano, 
^vdth  a roulette  casino  attached  thereto,  which  rakes  in  a 
profit  of  anything  between  100,000  and  200,000  pesos 
(gold)  every  month ; a second  establishment  of  the  same 
kind,  only  more  magnificent,  is  about  to  be  opened  at 
Carrasco.  Now,  speaking  for  myself,  I regard  these 
palatial  gambling  houses  as  benevolent  institutions, 
because  they  provide  a means  of  recovering  money  from 
the  idle  rich  and  redistributing  it  quickly  for  the  benefit 
of  the  community.  I like  to  watch  the  pompous  Porteno, 
the  Basque  estanciero,  and  the  Spanish  money-lender, 
succumbing  to  their  ruling  passion,  and  to  see  their  money 
going  swiftly  back  into  circulation.  The  little  white 
ball,  spinning  merrily,  when  they  have  dined  well  to  light 
sounds  of  music,  is  probably  the  only  instrument  of 
retributive  justice  that  will  meet  their  case.  I like  to 
see  it  doing  its  good  and  useful  work,  just  as  I like  to  see 
the  plethoric  wealth  of  our  Jewish  financiers  and  impre- 
sarios dimini.shed  by  an  almost  human  devotion  to  some 
capricious  star  of  the  musical  comedy  world.  As  a matter 
of  morals,  there  is  all  the  difference  in  the  world  between 
a roulette  table  run  for  the  public  benefit  and  one,  like 
that  of  Monte  Carlo,  run  for  the  benefit  of  private  share- 
holders. The  Uruguayan  authorities  have  practically 
put  roulette  on  the  same  footing  as  the  Gothenberg  sys- 
tem has  put  drinking  in  Scandinavia;  incidentally,  by 
so  doing,  they  attract  a good  deal  of  Argentine  money 


198  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


into  the  Uruguayan  til].  So  far,  so  good ; to  take  money 
from  the  wealthy  for  public  purposes  is  meritorious.  But 
their  systematic  cultivation  of  the  gambling  instinct 
amongst  the  poorer  classes  by  means  of  ubiquitous  and 
never-ceasing  public  lotteries  is  a very  different  matter; 
and  the  offence  is  greatly  aggravated  by  all  these  continual 
boasts  about  social  reform  and  bj^  the  Government’s 
professions  of  solicitude  for  the  moral  welfare  of  the 
people. 

When  you  buy  a box  of  matches — on  which  the  Govern- 
ment levies  a tax  of  five  milesimos — you  find  yourself 
confronted  by  a moral  maxim  of  unimpeachable  virtue 
printed  on  the  inner  flap;  some  pious  exhortation  to 
honesty,  or  kindness  to  animals,  or  sober  thrift.  And  in 
the  same  shop,  you  will  observe  a placard  reminding  you 
that  to-morrow’s  lottery  places  a fortune  within  the 
reach  of  every  man’s  hand.  There  is  a lottery  every 
week;  the  price  of  the  tickets  varies  (being  nicely  calcu- 
lated on  the  public’s  probable  margin  of  savings)  and  the 
first  prize  may  be  anything  between  20,000  pesos  and  the 
big  New  Year  prize  of  300,000  pesos — a little  matter  of 
£70,000  at  the  present  rate  of  exchange.  The  sale  of 
lottery  tickets  is  pushed  with  a good  deal  more  energy- 
than  is  usual  in  government  business.  Ragged  children 
and  cripples  thrust  them  at  you,  with  raucous  cries,  at 
every  street  comer;  hawkers  shout  the  value  of  the  first 
prize  and  the  date  of  drawing  on  trains  and  trams  and 
wharves.  The  number  of  shops  that  apparently  make  a 
living  by  selling  them  on  a 4 per  cent,  commission,  and 
b}^  changing  money,  is  as  mysteriously  great  as  the  number 
of  public-houses  in  Belfast  or  Glasgow^ — one  feels  that 
there  cannot  possibly  be  enough  customers  to  go  round. 
But  the  business  goes  steadily  on,  and  as  neither  the 
match-box  maxims  nor  the  eloquence  of  professional 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


199 


moralists  have  ever  affected  it  in  the  slightest  degree, 
they  may  fairly  be  regarded  as  a harmless  concession  to 
the  theory  of  political  virtue,  an  inexpensive  kind  of 
eyewash. 

Or,  since  we  are  in  the  way  with  professions  of  progress 
and  social  reform,  take  the  case  of  the  unmarried  mother 
and  her  offspring.  It  is  a subject  which  Dr.  Varela 
might  well  have  discussed  at  Versailles,  rather  than  that 
of  the  regulating  of  female  labour.  The  latter  is  never 
likely  to  become  practical  politics  (woman  having  no 
vote,  and  little  chance  of  ever  getting  one),  whereas  since 
the  Government  decided  to  treat  the  Church  as  an  obsolete 
institution,  the  marriage  rate  has  gone  down,  and  the 
percentage  of  illegitimate  children  has  gone  steadily  up. 
Now,  amongst  the  executive’s  most  eloquent  claims  to 
public  virtue,  solicitude  for  the  welfare  of  children  takes 
a prominent  place.  El  culto  del  nino,  as  I have  remarked 
before,  is  almost  an  obsession  in  this  land.  Nevertheless, 
the  fact  remains  that  where  the  marriage  ceremony  is 
more  honoured  in  the  breach  than  the  observance — 
this  is  particularly  the  case  in  many  parts  of  the  interior — 
and  where  the  children  of  unmarried  mothers  are  in- 
creasingly numerous,  there  can  never  be  a fair  chance 
for  either  mother  or  child,  until  the  law  provides  some 
effective  means  for  securing  to  the  woman  either  sufficient 
alimony  from  the  father  or  a regular  bounty  from  the 
State.  And  such  a law,  if  and  when  it  is  made,  will  have 
to  be  administered  and  enforced  by  new  men  and  new 
means,  very  different  from  those  which  now  obtain  in 
the  “ camp.”  Meanwhile,  in  official  circles  the  subject 
is  steeped  in  absent-minded  silence,  like  that  which  over- 
comes profiteering  patriots  and  the  syndicated  Press  in 
England  when  some  one  talks  of  the  sale  of  public  honours 
and  titles. 


200  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

If  I mention  these  little  flies  in  the  amber,  it  is  not  in 
any  spirit  of  destructive  criticism,  but  merely  to  prevent 
the  uninitiated  reader  from  assuming,  as  otherwise  he 
might,  that  the  Garden  of  Eden  is  being  reconstructed, 
with  modem  improvements,  in  Uruguay,  or  anywhere 
else  in  South  America.  Take  it  all  round,  the  Banda 
Oriental  is  probably  governed  with  more  educated  in- 
telligence than  any  country  south  of  Panama,  and  with 
just  as  much  honesty;  the  stabihty  of  its  finances  and 
the  maintenance  of  pubhc  order  are  certainly  superior  to 
those  of  her  neighbours.  It  remains  nevertheless  true 
that  party  pohtics  here  are  essentially  the  old  sordid 
struggle  of  the  Haves  and  the  Have-nots,  and  that,  pace 
the  Monroe  doctrine,  the  words  and  works  of  South 
America’s  repubhcan  pohticians  bear  an  unpleasant 
family  likeness  to  those  of  party  government  men  in 
monarchical  Europe.  It  is  because  this  is  so,  I think, 
that  one  objects  to  their  assumption  of  superior  virtue 
more  than  to  any  actual  defects  in  their  system  of  govern- 
ment, in  the  same  way  that  one  resents  Mr.  Wilson’s 
doctrinaire  claim  to  act  as  the  universal  umpire  and 
exponent  of  International  morality. 

From  the  Press  and  from  the  placards  on  street  hoardings 
it  is  safe  to  conclude  that  the  industrial  workers  and 
Government  employes  of  Montevideo  take  a lively  interest 
in  the  progress  of  sociahstic  ideas.  On  the  ist  of  May, 
1917,  for  example,  the  walls  were  covered  wdth  appeals 
to  all  good  sociahsts  to  oppose  the  Government’s  proposals 
for  compulsory  military  service.  On  another  occasion, 
there  was  considerable  excitement  and  a movement  to 
secure  official  representations  to  Germany,  with  regard  to 
the  imprisonment  of  Liebknecht.  But  these  activities  are 
evidently  stimulated  by  class  bias  and  economic  aims, 
rather  than  by  any  definite  political  consciousness.  As 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


201 


for  polite  society,  it  knows  and  cares  very  little  about 
politics,  local  or  foreign,  for  the  simple  reason  that  polite 
society,  outside  the  family  circle,  consists  entirely  of 
women,  at  present  unfitted  by  their  education,  and  by  the 
conventions  which  surround  them  on  every  side,  to  take 
any  intelligent  interest  in  public  affairs. 

For  obvious  reasons,  which  require  no  elaboration,  one 
recognises  and  makes  allowances  for  the  pecuhar  con- 
ditions, racial  and  economic,  which  determine  the  humili- 
ating social  position  of  women,  and  explain  the  lack  of 
civilised  social  intercourse  between  the  two  sexes,  in  most 
of  the  South  American  Republics,  from  Paraguay  at  the 
bottom  of  the  scale,  upwards.  One  makes  allowance  for 
the  negro  strain  in  Brazil  and  generally  for  the  effect  of 
climate  and  of  interbreeding  with  aboriginal  natives  of 
higher  or  lower  types.  But  it  is  not  easy  to  reconcile 
Montevideo’s  outward  and  visible  signs  of  material  and 
cultural  progress  and  the  high  physical  and  intellectual 
standard  of  the  Uruguayan  people,  with  the  mediaeval 
position  assigned  to,  and  apparently  accepted  by,  their 
women.  In  this  respect,  " Oriental  ” civihsation  is  still 
inferior  to  that  of  the  Argentine. 

Place  aux  dames  ; they  must  have  a chapter  to  them- 
selves. But  we  shall  have  to  be  very,  very  careful. 


CHAPTER  XI 


CHIEFLY  ABOUT  WOMAN 

Polite  society  in  Montevideo — which,  as  I have  said 
before,  consists  almost  entirely  of  women — ^is  quite 
willing  to  admit  in  private  conversation  that  the  con- 
ditions which  govern  the  relations  of  the  sexes  in  Uruguay 
are  unsatisfactory  and  unwholesome,  not  to  say  mediaeval. 
But  they  say  it  without  conviction,  and  neither  in  the 
Press  nor  in  the  literature  of  the  country  will  you  dis- 
cover anything  to  indicate  that  they  resent,  individually 
or  collectively,  the  persistence  of  these  conditions,  or 
that  they  are  really  conscious  of  humiliation  in  remaining 
subject  to  the  Moorish  tradition  of  female  virtue,  defined 
by  cast-iron  conventions  and  confined  behind  iron-barred 
windows.  They  will  tell  you  that  things  are  slowly  but 
surely  changing,  and  that  women  enjoy  far  more  liberty 
now  than  they  did  twenty-five  years  ago,  but  there  is 
seldom  any  enthusiasm  about  these  admissions.  On  the 
contrary,  they  are  generally  flavoured  with  a delicate 
melancholy,  laudator  temporis  acti — and  sometimes  with 
the  same  gentle  sort  of  deprecation  with  which  one’s 
grandmother  used  to  speak  of  “ votes  for  women,”  and 
the  bold  bad  suffragettes.  There  is  no  such  conservative 
as  your  " good  ” woman,  and  it  is  probably  true  that  no 
other  animal  thrives  so  well  in  captivity.  Nevertheless, 
remembering  that  educated  women  in  South  America 
frequently  read  books,  and  occasionally  travel  in  Europe, 
one  cannot  but  marvel  at  the  nature  and  results  of  the 
barbed-wire  conventions  with  which  they  are  here  sur- 

202 


MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS  203 

rounded,  and  apparently  well  content.  Also  one  wonders 
whether,  in  a society  so  outwardly  cultured  and  dis- 
ciplined as  this,  the  male  sex  can  really  be  such  rampant 
profligates  and  sensualists  as  the  maintenance  of  these 
conventions  would  imply.  Personally,  I do  not  believe 
it;  for,  to  put  the  matter  plainly,  the  basic  convention 
upon  which  society  proceeds  in  these  countries,  is  that 
freedom  of  social  intercourse  between  men  and  women 
must  inevitably  lead  to  promiscuous  sexual  intercourse. 
Again,  I do  not  believe  it.  The  male  youth  of  Uruguay 
is  certainly  undisciplined,  chiefly  because  he  is  spoiled 
by  his  women-folk,  and  because  there  is  nothing  in  the 
curriculum  of  the  secondary  schools  or  universities  to 
inculcate  a code  of  honour  and  self-control ; but  there  is 
nothing  to  show  that  a proper  system  of  education, 
beginning  on  Boy  Scout  lines,  would  not  give  as  good 
results  here  as  in  most  European  countries.^  At  all  events 
the  City  Fathers  of  Montevideo  have  never  thought  it 
necessary  to  pass  a law,  such  as  that  which  runs  in 
Buenos  Aires  (or  that  made  by  good  Queen  Wilhelmina 
for  Holland),  to  protect  women  from  being  accosted  by 
men  in  the  streets  during  the  daytime.  The  young 
women  of  Montevideo  can  certainly  go  about  their 
shopping  and  social  business  unescorted  and  unmolested. 

No,  the  more  closely  one  examines  the  subject,  the 
more  reason  is  there  to  believe  that  the  semi-Asiatic 
position  of  woman  in  the  subtropical  and  temperate  parts 
of  South  America  is  not  necessitated  either  by  racial  or 
climatic  conditions,  but  is  simply  the  tyranny  of  social 
customs,  fortified  in  their  persistence  by  the  Hispano- 
Moorish  traditions  of  “ the  best  families,”  and  by  the 

1 The  Boy  Scout  movement  in  Montevideo,  extremely  active 
and  promising  in  1915-16,  appears  to  have  since  dried  up  at  the 
source.  But  for  this  the  youth  of  Uruguay  is  not  to  blame. 


204  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

influence  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church,  a tyranny  as 
petrified  and  ubiquitous  as  the  Moorish  tradition  in 
architecture  all  over  the  continent.  For  observe,  it  is 
not  only  the  unmarried  girl  who  needs  to  be  protected 
by  the  insuperable  barriers  which  society  has  agreed  to 
erect  between  the  sexes  : the  married  woman  is  just  as 
rigorously  cut  off  from  reasonable  social  intercourse  with 
men,  except  those  of  her  immediate  family  circle — and  so 
rigorous  is  the  censorship  created  by  the  ostracisms  and 
defamations  of  polite  society  for  any  breach  of  its  con- 
ventional code,  that  age  cannot  wither  nor  custom  stale 
the  infinite  variety  of  its  uncharitable  gossip.  I remem- 
ber an  old  lady,  a grandmother  and  a sexagenarian, 
telling  me  that  she  could  not  offer  me  a seat  in  her  motor- 
car after  the  opera  because  “ people  would  talk.”  And 
I remember,  as  another  typical  instance  of  Montevidean 
manners,  that  the  wife  of  a distinguished  member  of  the 
diplomatic  body  had  thoughtlessly  accepted  the  offer  of 
a lift  home  from  a dinner-party  from  one  of  her  husband’s 
colleagues,  when  a horrified  native  lady  intervened  and 
begged  her  to  save  appearances  by  having  another  guest 
drive  with  them,  at  least  to  the  first  corner.  Ah,  ces 
langues  ! And  the  application  of  the  code  is  not  limited 
to  the  native  born;  the  stranger  within  the  gates  of 
Uruguay  is  expected  to  conform  to  it.  You  may  be 
English  or  French,  society  will  pick  up  its  sanctimonious 
skirts  and  consign  you  to  outer  darkness  if  you  venture 
to  act  in  all  good  faith  upon  the  assumption  that  a man 
may  be  clean-minded  and  a woman  virtuous.  At 
the  fashionable  afternoon  tea  place  in  the  Calle  Rincon 
fara  familias,  gentlemen  unaccompanied  by  ladies 
are  not  admitted.  Ex  fede  Herculem.  English  families 
in  the  Argentine  and  Uruguay,  and  especially  those  of 
the  second  generation  of  residents,  usually  conform  to 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


205 


these  local  shibboleths  and  make  a virtue  of  necessity. 
I have  even  known  more  than  one  English  parent  of 
native-born  children  to  defend  the  barrier  system, 
maintaining  that  the  sex  passions  of  these  people  are  not 
controllable  without  it,  and  that,  the  coiip  de  foudre 
being  a phenomenon  of  frequent  occurrence,  parents 
and  husbands  do  well  to  guard  against  it.  They  there- 
fore support  a code  which,  while  precluding  rational 
social  intercourse,  professes  to  confer  a measure  of 
protection  against  the  call  of  the  blood.  But  the  very 
fact  of  foreigners  being  expected  to  conform  to  the 
ancient  Iberian  formulae  and  fashions  of  deportment  is 
in  itself  evidence  that  the  survival  of  the  code  is  solely 
due  to  the  tyranny  of  hidebound  custom  and  that  the 
remedy  lies  in  decent  education. 

As  things  are,  polite  society  in  Uruguay  resembles  the 
congregations  of  the  Lutheran  Church ; the  ewe  lambs 
and  wethers  carefully  fenced  off  from  the  wild  he-goats. 
Outside  of  the  family  circle,  which  therefore  assumes 
enormous  size  and  importance,  the  average  man’s  social 
activities  are  confined  to  his  club,  to  racing,  or  politics, 
or  the  theatre,  and  for  the  rest,  to  the  cultivation  of  such 
wild  oats  as  his  needs,  means  and  opportunities  may 
allow.  On  the  morganatic  attachments  of  the  married 
men,  on  the  benevolent  activities  of  imported  French 
and  Italian  artistes,  and  of  the  “ China  ” of  the  lesser 
demi-monde,  society  looks  with  something  very  like 
complacency.^  The  menage  d trois  is  not  sanctioned  by 
the  Mussulman  code,  but  the  Pasha,  when  bored  by  his 

^ The  term  “ China  ” (origin  doubtful)  is  applied  in  the 
Argentine  and  the  Banda  Oriental  to  native-born  women  bred 
from  Indian  or  half-Indian  stock.  They  are  generally  of  pleasant 
manners  and  good  physique;  in  the  matter  of  morals,  unbiassed 
and  somewhat  miscellaneous;  and  in  their  disposition,  simple, 
affectionate  and  philoprogenitive. 


206  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


own  menage,  may  visit  the  secret  orchards  of  his  choice. 
In  that  circle  of  society  where  politicians  and  plutocrats 
meet,  the  maintenance  of  a mistress  is  almost  de  rigueur, 
as  in  Paris,  if  one  would  be  in  the  fashion.  Married  men 
are  not  supposed  to  pay  visits  with  their  wives;  and 
society  does  not  usually  indulge  in  such  promiscuous 
entertainments  as  dinner-parties.  There  are  dances,  of 
course,  for  matrimonial  ends,  but  mother’s  lamb  remains 
very  discreetly  within  range  of  mother’s  eye,  and  cosy 
corners,  except  for  engaged  couples,  are  unknown.  In 
fact,  the  only  legitimate  capacities  in  which  a member 
of  the  male  sex  can  appear  at  a social  function  are  those 
of  a watch-dog  or  an  aspirant  to  matrimony.  Outside 
of  the  family  circle,  his  relations  with  women  in  society 
are  marked  by  rigid  formality,  and  hedged  about  with 
the  chevaux  de  frise  of  inviolable  conventions. 

I recall  to  mind  a certain  tea-party  given  by  a much- 
travelled,  and  therefore  liberal-minded,  lady  of  the  best 
“ Oriental  ” society,  at  which,  in  addition  to  the  usual 
large  gathering  of  women,  there  were  present  no  less 
than  four  men — to  wit,  three  husbands  and  a brother.^ 
It  was  an  instructive  entertainment,  though  from  the 
European  social  standard  a dull  and  uncomfortable 
business.  After  the  tea,  at  which  the  ladies  sat  down 
to  table,  while  the  men  stood  around  and  passed  cakes 
and  polite  remarks,  the  w'omen  retired  in  a body  to  the 
drawing-room,  where  they  sat  in  a circle,  talking  chiffons, 

^ At  inter-family  dinners,  or  convivial  gatherings  of  intimate 
friends,  it  is  not  considered  good  form  to  separate  husband  and 
wife  at  table.  Host  and  hostess  sit  side  by  side,  and  the  rest, 
two  by  two,  round  the  festive  board.  These  entertainments 
may  not  be  wildly  exciting,  but  they  serve  to  stimulate  the 
tribal  instinct,  a very  powerful  factor  in  Montevidean  life,  and 
they  are  eminently  respectable.  To  achieve  respectability  is 
the  be-all  and  end-all  of  existence. 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


207 


babies  and  the  servant  problem,  for  the  best  part  of  an 
hour.  During  this  time  the  men  remained  in  another 
room,  smoking  and  telling  each  other  stories  about  the 
joys  of  life  in  Paris  and  about  ladies  of  the  undomes- 
ticated kind,  muy  verde.  In  search  of  knowledge  I 
ventured  into  the  drawing-room,  and,  greatly  daring, 
engaged  one  of  the  ladies  in  conversation — one  who  had 
spent  several  seasons  in  Paris  and  likely,  therefore,  to 
concede  that  a travelling  stranger  might  speak  to  a lady 
without  wishing  either  to  marry  or  to  compromise  her. 
I asked  her  if  she  could,  and  would,  explain  to  me  why 
all  the  very  pleasant  gentlemen  in  the  other  room 
remained  so  unsociably  distant  ? Why,  also,  was  it 
that  according  to  the  laws  and  customs  of  Montevideo, 
a woman  might  not  be  seen  walking  and  talking  in  public 
with  any  male  friend  or  acquaintance,  no  matter  how 
notoriously  respectable?  " Senor,”  she  replied,  “you 
are  quite  right;  it  is  all  very  stupid.  But  when  men 
talk  to  women  in  this  country,  it  is  always  about  the 
same  thing,  and  it  is  not  suitable  conversation  for  the 
drawing-room.”  While  there  is  good  ground,  no  doubt 
for  this  young  woman’s  indictment,  I see  no  reason  to 
believe  that  there  is  more  original  sin  in  a well-bred 
native  of  Uruguay  than,  shall  we  say,  in  a Spaniard  or 
a Russian.  And,  after  all,  whose  fault  is  it  if  the  average 
male  product  of  Uruguayan  education  disports  himself 
like  the  oiled  and  curled  Assyrian  bull,  and  regards  la 
chasse  aux  femmes  as  the  chief  purpose  of  existence? 
Does  not  the  barbed-wire  system  and  all  this  artificial 
separation  of  the  sexes  inevitably  tend  to  produce  in 
both  a permanent  and  unhealthy  condition  of  sexual 
excitement  ? Beyond  all  question,  it  does ; the  whole 
life  of  the  community  throbs  with  the  pulsations  of 
natural  human  instincts,  all  the  stronger  for  being  arti- 


208  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  IMORALS 


ficially  restrained,  and  society  thus  becomes  a network 
of  intrigue,  of  secret  rebellions  against  its  Draconian 
laws.  There  can  be  no  doubt,  as  was  proved  long  ago 
by  the  ancient  civilisation  of  Greece,  and  more  recently 
during  the  golden  age  in  Japan,  that  the  healthy,  natural 
treatment  of  natural  things  provides  the  best  safeguard 
against  morbid  sexual  excitement  and  all  its  unpleasant 
consequences.  Under  the  South  American  system,  and 
particularly  in  the  more  highly  civilised  Republics,  one 
sees  this  sexual  excitement  at  its  worst  reflected  in 
private  life,  in  literature,  and  on  the  stage,  in  manners 
and  in  morals,  because  here  you  have  the  traditions  of 
the  Moorish  harem  struggling  with  the  instinctive 
aspirations  of  the  Latin  towards  freedom. 

The  artificial  state  of  society,  produced  by  the  tyranny 
of  creeds  and  customs  long  outworn,  is  undeniable; 
one  of  its  inevitable  and  immediate  consequences  is  to 
make  the  outward  appearances  of  propriety  the  be-all 
and  end-all  of  social  virtue.  On  the  moral  and  physical 
disadvantages  resulting  therefrom,  especially  for  women, 
I prefer  to  make  no  comment.  Amongst  the  lower 
classes  they  are  sufficiently  obvious;  incest  of  all  kinds 
is  notoriously  common.  As  regards  the  middle  class, 
the  position  of  affairs  has  recently  been  described  with 
brutal  frankness  by  a Montevidean  writer,  in  a novel 
entitled  La  Familia  Gutierrez.  No  stronger  indictment 
could  be  penned  of  the  arbitrary  code  of  deportment 
imposed  upon  young  women  during  the  period  in  which 
they  are  expected  to  win  and  retain  the  affections  of  a 
suitor,  pour  le  bon  motif. 

It  is  a feature  of  the  damnable  system,  and  one  which 
tends  to  intensify  the  prevailing  atmosphere  of  sexual 
excitement,  that  whereas  polite  society,  armed  with  all 
the  terrors  of  the  Holy  Inquisition,  places  woman  on  a 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


209 


pedestal  of  virtuous  inaccessibility,  it  allows  and  en- 
courages her  to  make  herself  as  attractive  as  possible  to 
the  other  sex.  To  see  a mother  and  her  marriageable 
daughter  taking  the  air  at  Pocitos,  or  shopping  on  Sarandi 
at  the  fashionable  hour,  is  to  learn  something  of  the  gentle 
art  of  serving  forbidden  fruit  in  the  most  alluring  style. 
Mother’s  whole  heart  is  set,  no  doubt,  on  protecting  her 
poor  child  from  the  crafts  and  assaults  of  the  ravening 
male,  but  they  both  take  good  care  that  everything 
possible  shall  be  done  to  attract  his  roving  eye.  The 
young  lady’s  clothes,  especially  in  summer,  leave  but 
little  of  her  figure  to  the  imagination,  and  I gather  that 
in  the  arts  of  seductive  fascination  she  has  not  much  to 
learn.  Of  course.  Mother’s  defence,  on  a charge  of 
illogical  procedure,  would  be  that  competition  in  the 
marriage  market  is  extremely  brisk,  and  that  it  is  the 
business  of  every  good  woman  to  find  husbands  for  her 
daughters  at  all  costs.  But  even  granting  this  debatable 
point,  if  there  be  any  sincerity  in  this  arbitrary  segrega- 
tion of  women,  or  anything  in  it  of  vital  necessity  to  the 
preservation  of  society,  one  might  at  least  expect  that, 
having  married,  women  should  protect  themselves  effec- 
tively from  all  further  attentions  of  the  ravening  male  by 
a mouse-like  modesty  of  raiment  and  by  discarding  all 
her  feminine  wiles  of  allurement.  Knowing  the  sensi- 
tive jealousy  of  her  lawful  lord  and  the  polygamous 
instincts  of  his  friends,  one  might  reasonably  expect  her 
to  follow  the  logical  example  of  her  fellow-women  of  the 
Far  East  and  either  blacken  her  teeth  with  betel-nut, 
or  adopt  some  similar  device  for  escaping  the  glad  eye. 
She  might  cut  her  eyelashes,  give  up  the  rouge-pot,  and 
eschew  the  flapper  style  in  skirts.  But  noblesse  oblige  ; 
she  evidently  prefers  to  run  her  risks. 

The  present  state  of  affairs,  conceived  in  the  mind 

p 


210  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


of  mediaeval  Spain,  is  only  maintained  because  of  the 
defective  education,  and  the  inherent  conservatism  of 
South  American  women.  It  is  simply  a matter  of  slavish 
adherence  to  fetishes,  combined  with  a morbid  fear  of 
public  opinion,  in  a community  greatly  addicted  to 
malicious  gossip.  That  it  is  dictated  by  tyrannous 
custom,  and  not  by  any  creed,  is  sufficiently  proved  by 
the  fact  that,  when  Argentines  and  Orientals  find  them- 
selves in  London  or  Paris  they  behave  like  ordinary 
civilised  people,  and  the  heavens  do  not  fall. 

You  perceive  this  same  tyranny  of  an  artificial  respecta- 
bility in  polite  society’s  observance  of  its  intolerable  code 
of  mourning.  In  this  matter,  the  Draconian  severity  of 
the  older  generation  has  been  somewhat  modified  of 
late,  but  the  unwritten  ordinances  of  Montevideo's 
respectabihty  are  still  sufficient  to  fill  the  streets  with 
the  garments  and  trappings  of  conventional  grief  and  to 
take  half  the  joy  out  of  life  for  every  one.  Not  so  long 
ago,  society  expected  that  the  death  of  a parent  should 
be  mourned  for  three  years,  and  mourning  meant  not 
only  weeds  and  flowing  crape,  but  complete  isolation, 
close  confinement  in  the  house  of  woe.  Women  in  such 
case  were  expected  never  to  be  seen  abroad  except  to 
go  to  Mass,  and  amongst  the  unco  guid  it  was  bad  form 
to  go  to  Mass  at  midday — they  crept  there  before  break- 
fast. For  an  uncle,  aunt,  brother  or  sister,  the  code 
imposed  a year’s  abstinence  from  the  pomps  and  vanities 
of  this  wicked  world.  So  that  in  the  case  of  large  families 
it  frequently  happened — and  it  happens  still — that  the 
younger  generation  spent  all  its  best  years  beneath  the 
weeping-willow  tree,  marooned  in  the  odour  of  sanctity, 
cut  off  from  all  rational  enjoyment  of  life.  (Is  it  not 
told  of  an  ingenious  iconoclast  of  Paraguay  that  he 
invited  all  his  relations  to  his  wedding  and  burnt  the 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


211 


house  down  in  order,  as  he  said,  to  have  all  his  mourning 
at  once,  and  be  done  with  it?)  The  unwritten  law 
enforced  with  inquisitorial  malignity  in  a community 
where  every  one  is  afraid  of  his  neighbour’s  definitions  of 
les  convenances  imposes  mourning  even  for  the  lesser 
degrees  of  kinship,  so  that  to  be  on  the  safe  side  an 
Uruguayan  family  rushes  into  black  on  the  slightest 
provocation.  (The  line  of  safety  appears  to  be  drawn 
with,  but  after,  the  cook’s  parrot.)  No  doubt  the 
Church,  for  its  own  ends,  had  something  to  do  with  the 
devising  of  this  lugubrious  business,  and  the  patriarchal 
social  system  would  naturally  tend  to  perpetuate  it,  but 
with  the  last  decade  ideas  have  become  less  parochial, 
and  it  is  gradually  losing  some  of  its  barbarous  rigidity. 

There  seems  to  be  good  reason  to  hope  that  the  sack- 
cloth and  ashes  business  is  in  process  of  suppression,  but 
as  matters  stand  in  this  year  of  grace,  it  is  no  exaggeration 
to  say  that  half  the  well-to-do  class  goes  clad  in  funereal 
black.  For  man,  passe  encore — ^he  may  wear  decent 
mournmg  without  necessarily  reminding  one  of  the 
undertaker — but  that  women,  whose  proper  business  it 
should  be  to  gladden  the  eye  and  rejoice  the  heart, 
should  thus  convert  themselves  into  walking  monuments 
of  Old  Mortality,  this  is  an  offence  against  reason  and  a 
reproach  to  the  cheerful  blue  of  heaven. 

Beyond  all  doubt  it  is  the  slavish  conservatism  of 
women,  and  not  the  wicked  will  of  man,  which  imposes 
these  senseless  fetishes  upon  the  community;  for  here, 
more  so  than  with  us,  woman  is  the  maker,  controller 
and  permanent  inmate  of  the  home.  Only  conservatism 
of  the  atavistic  unreasoning  kind  can  account  for  their 
persistence  in  adhering  as  they  do  to  the  Moorish  style 
of  architecture,  with  its  prison-like  windowless  walls, 
the  single  entrance  to  its  caravanserai  patio,  and  the 


212  MEN,  IMANXERS  AND  MORALS 


sala  on  the  street  front,  with  its  balconies  and  the  little 
slits  of  peep-holes  in  the  shutters,  that  are  for  ever  shut. 
Apart  from  its  obvious  suitabihty  to  the  seraglio  system, 
and  its  consequent  impropriety  in  a modem  civilised 
state,  it  is  a style  of  building  entirely  unsuited  to  a 
climate  which,  for  several  months  in  the  year,  is  decidedly 
cold.  The  cheerless  discomfort  of  a typical  Umguayan 
estabhshment  in  winter  is  one  of  many  sacrifices  which 
these  people  unconsciously  pay  to  the  Moorish  tradition ; 
but  the  lady  of  the  house,  as  she  sits  shivering  over  a 
smelly  kerosene  stove,  seems,  like  its  builder,  to  cherish 
the  delusion  that  winter  is  an  accident  which  will  probably 
not  occur  again. 

It  is  this  same  good  old  tawny  conservatism,  no  doubt, 
which  leads  her  to  defend  and  perpetuate  for  her  offspring 
the  semi-barbarous  conditions  which  govern  the  relations 
of  the  sexes,  and  the  egregious  rights  of  courtship  and 
betrothal  requisite  and  necessary  for  maidens  within  the 
pale  of  El  Mundo  Uruguayo. 

After  dark,  in  all  the  less-frequented  calles  of  Monte- 
video’s middle-class  suburbia.  Carmen  and  Juana,  Benita 
and  Dolores  stand  nightly  at  their  dim  casements,  either 
exchanging  sweet  nothings  with  a shadowy  young  man 
on  the  sidewalk,  or  leaning  over  the  balcony  patiently 
awaiting  destiny  in  the  form  of  a “ Dragon.”  I never 
see  them  at  this  stage  of  love’s  young  dream  but  that  my 
mind,  riding  its  hobby-horse  of  comparative  sociology, 
conjures  up  irrelevant  and  irreverent  memories  of  mating 
marts  in  other  lands — notably  those  of  the  ancient  East. 
The  unclaimed  wares  are  so  frankly,  sometimes  so 
pathetically,  eloquent  of  window-dressing.  And  then  La 
Familia  Gutierrez  comes  to  mind,  with  its  surgical  analysis 
of  the  life  of  these  young  women,  these  children  in  their 
teens,  for  whom  all  thoughts,  all  passions,  all  delights. 


[To  face  p.  212. 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


213 


are  fiercely  concentrated  in  the  winning  and  holding  of 
a novio,  for  whom  the  fear  of  spinsterhood  is  an 
abiding  shadow  of  shame,  and  philoprogenitiveness  the 
strongest  of  all  instincts. 

The  normal  love-affair,  especially  in  the  middle  class, 
begins  when  a roving  eye,  on  the  sidewalk,  meets  the 
glad  eye,  unblushingly  expectant,  at  the  sala  window ; 
sometimes  the  glad  eye  has  been  tracked  to  its  lair  by 
the  bold  poursuivani,  as  the  result  of  signs  of  gladness 
at  the  cathedral  parade  or  in  the  crowd  on  Sarandi. 
For  a day  or  two  the  young  man  expresses  his  admiration 
and  good  intentions  by  hanging  about  in  the  vicinity  of 
the  sefiorita’s  house  and  by  following  her  at  a respectful 
distance  in  her  walks  abroad.  Eventually,  if  the  young 
woman  does  not  dislike  his  appearance,  she  appears 
casually  on  the  balcony  and  becomes  aware  of  Romeo 
sighing  and  making  sheep’s  eyes  from  over  the  way; 
and  the  performance  begins.  If,  after  the  preliminary 
conversational  skirmishes,  both  parties  desire  each  other’s 
better  acquaintance,  the  young  man’s  novitiate  on  the 
sidewalk  begins,  and  he  is  known  as  the  fair  one’s 
“ Dragon.”  The  term  is  roughly  equivalent  to  our 
” walking  out  ” or  ” keeping  company.”  It  is,  however, 
non-committal  and  probationary ; except  with  the  tail  of 
a watchful  eye,  the  family  does  not  recognise  the  Dragon ’s 
proceedings,  while  the  cold  barrier  of  the  balcony  railing 
stands  between  him  and  rapturous  wooing.  The  Dragon 
stage  may  continue  over  a considerable  period,  should 
the  young  man  waver  between  love  and  liberty;  from 
personal  observation  I venture  to  assert  that  the  Dragon 
period  of  probation  is  probably  the  only  time  of  a South 
American  man’s  life  during  which  the  superiority  of  the 
masterful  male  yields  to  symptoms  of  deferential  cour- 
tesy. When  he  takes  the  final  plunge  of  being  introduced 


214  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

to  the  girl’s  parents  and  paying  his  formal  respects  to 
the  family,  he  becomes,  if  accepted,  her  novio,  or 
fiance.  His  matrimonial  goose  is  then  cooked.  Society 
expects  that  his  intimate  relationship  and  proprietary 
rights,  tempered  though  they  be  by  maternal  vigilance, 
shall  end  in  marriage — it  is  significant  that  when  he 
becomes  a bridegroom  he  is  still  called  a novio.  Public 
opinion  is  very  severe  on  faithless  swains  who  back  out 
of  the  formal  engagement;  and  rightly  so,  for  the  girl 
who  is  jilted  by  her  novio  is  not  likely  to  get  another. 
Her  virgin  bloom  is  gone,  and  her  gentle  sisters  speak  of 
her  with  the  sympathy  due  to  one  who  is  neither  a widow 
nor  a divorcee.  From  the  woman’s  point  of  view,  this 
is  the  worst  feature  of  the  system,  for  engagements 
frequently  last  for  j^ears,  and  the  atmosphere  of  sexual 
excitement  in  which  these  youths  and  maidens  are 
brought  up  is  unhealthy.  A girl  who  has  been  engaged 
for  a year  or  two  is  compelled  to  keep  her  novio  at  all 
costs,  a condition  of  affairs  scarcely  conducive  to  self- 
respect.  .A.nd  when  she  has  achieved  her  ambition  of 
marriage  the  Uruguayan  woman  is  generally  very  little 
better  than  a head  servant  in  her  own  house;  even  in 
the  richest  families,  she  frequently  has  no  money  or 
regular  allowance  of  her  own.  She  is  content  to  be  the 
mother  of  an  unlimited  number  of  children  and  to  con- 
sult her  husband’s  pleasure  in  all  things;  to  live  in 
economic  dependence  and  intellectual  inferiority;  to  be 
grateful  for  small  mercies,  and  to  look  the  other  way 
when  her  lord  thinks  fit  to  stray  in  paths  of  dalliance. 

But  they  hug  their  chains,  these  women.  Every  one 
of  them  would  rather  be  Lothario’s  married  drudge  than 
perish  on  the  virgin  thorn  and  die  in  single  blessedness. 
They  will  tell  you  that  woman’s  highest  aspiration,  her 
only  role  in  life,  is  to  bear  children  and  keep  house ; and 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


215 


they  seem  to  resent  the  idea  that  she  should  ever  do,  or 
be,  anything  more.  This,  their  normal  state  of  mind, 
is  pathetically  reflected  in  the  conversation  of  the  average 
“ Oriental  ” drawing-room — there  are  exceptions,  heaven 
be  praised ! — and  in  the  attitude  of  hostility  which 
Uruguayan  society  (with  a big  S)  displays  towards 
those  women  who  display  any  tendency  to  call  their 
souls  their  own,  and  to  disregard  the  least  of  all  their 
shibboleths. 

If  this  were  Costa  Rica,  or  even  Southern  Mexico,  one 
would  bow  to  the  inevitable;  but  these  women  belong 
physically  and  intellectually  to  the  higher  type  of  civilised 
humanity.  If  their  minds  are  undeveloped,  it  is  not 
because  the  soil  is  unfertile,  but  simply  for  lack  of  proper 
education;  from  their  ordinary  conversation  you  might 
infer  that  they  had  passed  straightway  from  the  kinder- 
garten, by  way  of  the  market-place,  to  the  seclusion 
of  the  seraglio.  Marriage  and  giving  in  marriage;  the 
breeding  and  feeding  of  babies;  the  delinquencies  of 
husbands  and  the  dreadful  doings  of  the  demi-monde: 
the  buying  and  making  of  clothes ; the  servant  problem ; 
and  the  latest  thing  in  spicy  scandals — with  these  things 
do  the  senoras  entertain  each  other  unceasingly  at  their 
" five  o’clocks.”  Their  manners  are  graceful  and 
pleasant,  and  they  have  usually  been  taught  something 
of  music  and  what  Victorians  called  polite  accomplish- 
ments, but  of  art,  literature,  politics,  even  of  history  and 
geography  they  generally  know  nothing.  I recall  to 
mind,  as  a typical  instance  of  Uruguay’s  female  education, 
the  remark  made  by  a leader  of  Montevideo  society  to 
a distinguished  member  of  the  diplomatic  body,  who 
had  given  a lecture  on  the  subject  of  Marie  Antoinette  : 
“ Ah,”  she  said,  ” I did  enjoy  it  so  much — but  I hoped 
all  the  time,  you  know,  that  the  poor  dear  Queen  was 


216  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


going  to  escape.”  And  one  of  the  worst  features  of  the 
deplorable  limitation  of  their  education  is  that,  confined 
chiefly  to  the  society  of  their  own  kith  and  kin,  and 
lacking  a healthy  interest  in  pohtical,  social  and  intel- 
lectual activities  of  the  world  at  large,  they  naturally 
develop  an  abnormal  appetite  for  pett}^  gossip  of  a rather 
spiteful  kind.  I really  believe  that  there  is  more  specu- 
lative philosophy  and  more  breadth  of  views  in  the 
conversation  of  the  peons’  quarters  out  in  the  " camp  ” 
than  at  most  gatherings  of  the  beauty  and  fashion  of 
Montevideo’s  bourgeoisie. 

They  dress  w'ell,  here  as  in  Buenos  Aires  and  Santiago 
de  Chile.  Yet  a mere  man  may  perhaps  be  permitted 
to  express  the  opinion  that  the  use  of  extremely  high 
heels,  combined  with  short  skirts,  is  not  to  be  commended 
where  trim  ankles  and  neat  calves  are  strangely  few  and 
far  between. 

For  the  rest,  they  eat  well,  sleep  well,  dress  w’ell,  and 
look  well;  grow  stout  at  the  appointed  season  and  spoil 
their  children  unmercifully.  But  they  have  this  satis- 
faction to  their  credit,  though  perhaps  they  do  not  reahse 
it,  that  when  they  appear  in  public  in  the  company  of 
their  male  belongings — be  it  husband,  father  or  brother 
— these  masterful  creatures,  compared  with  them,  look 
like  poor  and  untidy  relations.  You  notice  the  same 
thing  in  New  York  and  Chicago,  but  here  the  contrast  is 
even  more  markedly  noticeable  throughout  all  grades  of 
society. 


CHAPTER  XII 


MONTEVIDEO 

One  of  the  results  of  the  prevailing  Moorish  tradition 
in  architecture,  with  its  one-storey  houses  all  built  around 
their  little  patios,  is  to  spread  the  city  out  over  an  area 
enormous  in  proportion  to  the  number  of  its  inhabitants. 
Looking  at  its  depth  and  distances  from  the  mole-hill 
eminence  of  the  Cerro  (which  is  the  name  of  the  “ Monte  ” 
that  the  Spanish  navigators  video’d),  you  would  put  its 
population  at  three  or  four  times  the  actual  number,  just 
as  one  does  when  seeing  the  great  enclosure  of  Peking 
from  the  city  walls,  or  Constantinople  from  the  forum  of 
Theodosius,  and  for  the  same  reason.  The  patio  habit 
requires  a lot  of  room,  but  experiments  in  the  two-  or 
three-storied  house  with  a common  central  court  are 
unsatisfactory  as  regards  privacy,  and  evidently  unpopu- 
lar; while  from  the  “ Dragon’s  ” point  of  view  there  are 
obvious  objections  to  courtship  from  the  sidewalk  with  a 
lady  on  a third-floor  balcony,  even  though  there  be  a 
complete  Morse  code  with  fan  and  handkerchief.  There- 
fore, the  one-storey  house  is  likely  to  remain  a national 
institution  for  some  time  to  come,  and  the  great  cities  of 
South  America  in  the  future  will  be  extensive  affairs. 
Montevideo,  they  say,  has  about  350,000  inhabitants — 
nobody  seems  quite  sure  of  the  figure — but  you  can  ride 
for  hours  through  its  suburbs,  each  exactly  like  all  the 
others,  and  all  well  served  with  two  tramways.  Only 
here  and  there,  on  the  Artigas  boulevard  and  in  certain 

fashionable  districts  where  plutocrats  have  built  themselves 

217 


218  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


the  latest  thing  in  modern  mansions  and  gardens,  will 
you  find  social  departures  from  the  orthodox  suburban 
calle,  with  its  rows  of  plane  trees,  all  of  the  same  height, 
and  its  unending  succession  of  houses  with  their  sola  win- 
dows all  eternally  shuttered,  and  their  balconies  all  in  a 
row  about  the  height  of  a man’s  head.  A street  of  this 
kind  is  no  more  monotonous,  in  reality,  and  is  in  many 
ways  better,  than  a street  in  the  suburbs  of  London  or  New 
York;  but  the  point  is  that,  whereas  Twickenham  speaks 
with  one  note  and  Hampstead  with  another,  both  differing 
from  Tooting  Bee,  here  in  Montevideo  when  you  have 
seen  one  street  you  have  practically  seen  them  all  This 
absence  of  invidious  distinctions  is  evidence,  no  doubt, 
of  a satisfactorily  democratic  division  of  wealth,  as  far  as 
the  middle  class  is  concerned.  There  is  very  little  here  of 
the  ostentatious  plutocratic  element  which  flaunts  itself 
in  Buenos  Aires,  and  on  the  other  hand,  while  the  great 
unwashed  is  well  represented,  there  are  few  paupers  and 
no  foul  slums. 

No  matter  where  one  goes  in  South  America,  one  had 
the  feeling  that  its  democracies  have  become  very  restless 
of  late  years  because  they  realise  that  their  New  World  is 
not  necessarily  safe,  in  spite  of  having  abolished  crowns, 
thrones  and  sceptres.  Buenos  Aires,  for  instance,  has 
become  more  intolerant  of  plutocrats  and  capitalistas 
than  Barcelona  itself.  Catalan  agitators,  bursting  with 
the  gospel  of  Trotsky  and  Lenin,  are  busy  wherever 
industrial  activity  has  produced  conspicuous  divisions 
between  the  Haves  and  Have-nots.  But  the  problem  is 
complicated  here  by  the  fact  that  where  every  one  considers 
himself  to  be  middle  class  at  least,  there  is  no  bloated 
bourgeoisie — to  go  for — only  the  foreign  capitafist,  the 
banker  and  the  manufacturer.  The  restlessness  is  there, 
widespread,  manifest,  also  the  desire  of  the  manual  labourer 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


219 


to  work  only  on  his  own  terms ; but  its  manifestations  are 
indiscriminate,  and,  if  Buenos  Aires  strike  leadership  is 
to  be  taken  as  typical,  conceived  in  ignorance  and  con- 
ducted in  foolishness.  When  one  sees  the  leading  Republic 
of  the  South  American  continent  rivalling  young  China 
in  the  folly  of  its  misconceptions  of  liberty — even  strikes 
of  school -children  being  seriously  discussed  by  the  authori- 
ties— one  perceives  that  ample  resources  and  elbow- 
room  are  not  in  themselves  sufficient  to  make  a contented 
people.  One  perceives  also  that  those  who  would  govern 
Demos  wisely  and  well  must  be  leaders,  not  followers,  of 
public  opinion;  thinkers  as  well  as  talkers;  and,  when  it 
comes  to  dealing  with  collective  folly,  men  of  action.  The 
difference  between  Demos  in  Buenos  Aires  and  Demos  in 
Montevideo  is  racially  small — though  the  former  is  out- 
wardly more  cosmopolitan — so  that  their  very  different 
conceptions  of  law  and  order  and  the  good  of  the  common- 
wealth may  fairly  be  ascribed  to  the  fact  that  Senor  Battle 
and  his  party  have  shown  more  sense  and  more  courage  in 
dealing  with  the  anarchist  element  than  Papa  Irigoyen  of 
Buenos  Aires.  Montevideo,  at  all  events,  gives  one  the 
impression  of  being  too  sensible,  and  possibly  too  com- 
fortable, to  allow  the  Syndicalist  and  the  Communist  to 
make  life  unbearable  with  all  the  stinks  of  their  political 
laboratory.  The  social  reformer  is  a conspicuous  figure 
in  the  land,  and  (unless  he  happens  to  combine  the  role 
with  that  of  a politician)  usually  honest  and  sincere ; but 
sooner  or  later  he  comes  up  against  the  great  Twin  Sopori- 
fics, Manana  and  Mas  6 Menos,  and  they  lull  him  to 
acquiescence,  or  to  sleep.  And  so,  in  spite  of  all  the 
alarms  and  excursions  on  her  borders,  and  the  fiery  elo- 
quence within  them,  Montevideo  contrives  to  preserve  a 
temperate  and  sensible  state  of  society. 

The  family-party  spirit  of  the  thing,  with  maiiana  and 


220  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


mas  6 menos  as  tutelary  spirits  in  the  background,  is 
fairly  manifested  in  Uruguay’s  public  services.  The 
army,  which  seems,  in  spite  of  all  principles  of  equality, 
to  be  largely  recruited  from  the  coloiured  element  ot  the 
population,  is  certainly  not  a militarist  force,  though 
useful  for  the  executive’s  purposes  of  law  and  order,  and 
for  the  discouraging  of  revolutions.  The  police,  as  a body, 
inspire  sympathy  rather  than  awe;  they  give  one  the 
impression  of  having  been  recently  discharged  from  an 
infirmary.  They  are  certainly  the  smallest  and  feeblest 
set  of  bobbies  in  existence.  It  is  a phenomenon  capable 
of  being  interpreted  in  several  ways,  but  local  experts  are 
probably  correct  in  their  assertion  that  the  selection  of  men 
for  the  force  is  made  on  the  principle  that  a small  and 
infirm  policeman  costs  less  than  a large  one.  Anyhow, 
they  look  as  dignified  as  possible  with  their  white  batons 
and  white  spats,  and  their  courtesy  is  worthy  of  Old  Castile. 
It  is  of  the  kindly,  thoughtful  brand  which,  rather  than 
turn  you  empty  away,  will  give  you  the  wrong  number  of 
a tram  \vithout  the  slightest  hesitation. 

The  tramway  service,  being  absolutely  essential  to  the 
business  and  pleasure  of  the  people,  as  distinct  from  that 
of  the  capitalista,  is  wonderfully  good  and  cheap.  Indeed, 
it  is  so  good  and  so  efficiently  handled  that  one  asks  oneself 
what  can  be  the  reason  for  the  incredible  rottenness  of  the 
railway,  telegraph,  telephone  and  postal  services?  Are 
these  of  so  little  importance  to  the  majority  of  the  com- 
munity that  the  bureaucracy  can  afford  to  let  them  go 
to  pieces?  They  have  two  telephone  companies  com- 
peting for  public  disfavour  in  Montevideo,  the  idea 
presumably  being  that  when  the  Senorita  tells  you  the  line 
is  muerta  on  one,  you  may  hope  to  extract  signs  of  life 
from  the  other. 

As  for  the  railway,  making  all  due  allowances  for  the 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


221 


war’s  curtailment  of  its  coal  supply,  words  fail  to  describe 
its  dolce  far  niente  methods  of  handling  passengers  and 
freight — especially  freight.  It  reminds  one  of  the  line 
built  by  the  Chinese  from  Peking  to  Kalgan,  alongside  of 
which,  by  stony  mountain  tracts,  most  of  the  country’s 
traffic  is  carried  on  by  mules  and  camels,  as  being  cheaper 
and  more  reliable.  If  Uruguay  possessed  roads  capable  of 
carrying  heavy  motor  traffic,  the  “ Central  Uruguay  ” 
would  either  have  to  get  on  or  get  out ; as  things  are,  it 
continues  to  inculcate  forty-parson  patience  in  a com- 
munity already  far  too  disposed  to  the  cultivation  of  that 
virtue. 

Personally,  having  passed  most  of  my  days  amongst 
bona  fide  Orientals  and  learned  something  of  the  wisdom 
of  their  contemplative  philosophy,  I have  a sneaking 
sympathy  for  a people  which  sincerely  believes  that  it 
doesn’t  really  matter  whether  you  do  a thing,  or  hear  of 
a thing,  to-day  or  to-morrow.  Therefore,  out  in  the 
“ camp,”  amongst  peons  who  hold  this  faith  in  the  unity  of 
spirit,  I find  myself  acquiescing  in  the  state  of  mind  which 
is  quite  satisfied  to  receive  its  letters  and  telegrams  once 
a week  (if  the  state  of  the  roads  permit)  by  sending  a 
messenger  to  fetch  them  from  the  pulperia  where  the 
Government’s  “ diligence  ” is  supposed  to  drop  them.^ 
Out  yonder,  where  the  peace  of  God  has  time  to  brood,  I 
shrug  my  shoulders  at  transport  and  communication 
arrangements  that  would  be  severely  criticised  even  by 
the  Chinese ; but  here,  in  the  city,  where  the  light  of  heaven 
is  dimmed  by  clustering  cobwebs  of  electric  wires,  and 
Chambers  of  Commerce  talk  loudly  of  their  enterprise,  I 

^ The  rural  postmaster  or  mistress,  generally  located  at  a 
pulperia,  receives,  as  a rule,  no  salary,  but  is  supposed  to  get  a 
percentage  on  the  sale  of  stamps.  But  as  they  seldom  have 
stamps  to  sell,  except  in  the  larger  towns,  their  interest  in  postal 
business  is  not  absorbing. 


222  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


confess  to  being  vexed  with  a system  which  transmits 
telegrams  at  about  normal  letter  speed,  and  doesn’t  seem 
to  mind  whether  the  outlying  parts  of  the  country  get  its 
mails  this  week  or  next. 

From  12  noon  to  1.30  p.m.  Montevideo  takes  its  midday 
meal  and  siesta.  All  the  shops  are  shut,  and  the  clamour 
of  the  lottery  ticket  and  newspaper  sellers  ^ dies  away  upon 
the  noontide,  for  the  law  ordains  that  every  man  is  to 
have  an  hour  and  a half  (or  more)  for  his  lunch. 

It  is  interesting  to  observe  how  this  forty -eight-hours-a- 
week  law  works  out,  both  in  the  breach  and  the  observance ; 
significant  here,  as  elsewhere,  the  politician’s  concern  for 
the  comfort  and  ease  of  organised  city  labour,  as  contrasted 
with  his  willingness  to  allow  agricultural  workers  to  toil 
from  dawn  to  dusk.  One  wonders  what  would  become 
of  this  country — and  others — if  the  husbandman  and  the 
sailor  were  to  insist  on  their  right  never  to  work  more  than 
four  hours  at  a stretch  ? In  practice,  of  course,  the  thing 
works  itself  out  into  reasonable  compromises,  except 
where  Government  and  public  servants  are  concerned; 
amongst  these  no  self-respecting  postal  clerk  or  tram  con- 
ductor but  must  seek  repose  after  four  hours  of  toil,  come 
what  may.  The  result  in  many  cases  means  a frightful 
waste  of  the  public’s  time  and  money,  but  what  of  that  ? 
When,  for  example,  the  crew  of  the  ferry  which  runs  be- 
tween the  harbour  and  the  Cerro  has  completed  a four- 

^ The  number  of  newspapers  published,  and  apparently  ab- 
sorbed, by  Montevideo  is  mysteriously  great.  Of  the  dozen 
or  so  represented  at  all  hours  of  the  day  by  swarms  of  shouting 
boys,  three  or  four  are  commonly  reported  to  be  self-supporting, 
even  remunerative,  enterprises,  though  their  price  remains  as 
before  the  war,  two  cents.  For  the  rest,  the  various  poHtical 
parties  and  the  Church  are  said  to  be  financially  responsible. 
If  so,  their  object  must  be  to  provide  harmless  employment  for 
poor  journalists;  for  either  as  polemics  or  propaganda  these 
sheets  must  be  a shocking  waste  of  money. 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


223 


hours  shift,  they  may  not  stay  aboard  the  boat,  for  that 
would  count  as  work.  So  they  make  the  boat  fast  to  the 
wharf  at  the  Cerro  and  stroll  about  on  shore  for  an  hour, 
to  the  satisfaction  of  Satan.  It  would  really  seem  as  if, 
in  this  complicated  world,  it  is  impossible  to  make  any  one 
set  of  people  comfortable  without  disturbing  hosts  of 
others;  and  our  sagacious  rulers,  having  discovered  this 
truth,  prefer  to  sacrifice  the  comfort  of  the  minority  who 
work  with  their  heads  to  the  satisfaction  of  those  who  toil 
with  their  hands. 

Montevideo  boasts  of  few  sights,  in  the  tourist  sense  of 
the  word ; no  historical  monuments  or  mouldy  collections 
of  relics,  and  nothing  to  compare  with  Buenos  Aires  in  the 
matter  of  architecture.  Nevertheless,  it  is  more  interesting 
and  instructive,  to  my  mind,  than  either  Buenos  Aires  or 
Rio.  For  here  you  come  nearer  to  the  heart  of  things, 
nearer  to  perception  of  the  forces  at  work  on  the  continent ; 
because  of  the  country’s  smallness  and  social  aloofness, 
you  perceive  more  clearly  the  great  problems  on  which 
all  its  future  depends ; the  economic  servitude  of  the  Old 
World  to  the  New ; the  rapid  filling  up  of  the  earth’s  last 
vacant  fertile  spaces ; the  infiltration  from  Europe  of  the 
corrosive  gospel  of  discontent;  the  storming  of  the  last 
stronghold  of  the  Catholic  faith,  planted  here  by  the  stout 
Jesuits  three  centuries  ago. 

Walking  at  evening  through  these  quiet  streets  and 
pleasant  places.  I find  myself  wishing  that  this  land  at 
least  might  be  spared  the  painful  process  of  further  civili- 
sation; that  it  might  rigorously  exclude  the  alien  and 
continue,  untouched  and  untroubled  by  the  senseless 
bustle  and  bloodshed  beyond  its  borders,  the  pleasant 
pastoral  life  of  the  “ Purple  Land.”  I find  myself,  in  fact, 
sympathising  with  President  Irigoyen  who,  it  seems,  would 
now  fain  rid  Argentina  of  all  capitalists  and  foreigners 


224  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


and  exhort  his  people,  abjuring  commerce,  to  dwell  hence- 
forth in  Arcadian  simplicity,  consuming  each  the  kindly 
fruits  of  his  own  rustic  labour.  In  all  truth,  I like  not  to 
think  of  what  the  state  of  the  Pampas  is  likely  to  be,  say 
fifty  years  hence,  when  the  last  of  the  Gauchos  has  disap- 
peared before  the  invading  hosts  of  base  mechanics  and 
all  the  land  has  been  parcelled  out  in  small  holdings  to  the 
flotsam  and  jetsam  of  famine-haunted  Europe. 

Though  there  be  little  for  a tourist’s  guide  to  show  you, 
there  is  plenty  of  food  for  thought  in  the  highways  and 
by-ways  of  the  city.  Begin,  for  instance,  as  a devout 
Britisher,  by  contemplating  the  lamentable  spectacle 
presented  by  the  scurvy  premises  where  hangs  the 
escutcheon  of  His  Majesty’s  Legation  and  Consulate.  One 
of  the  quietesj:  and  prettiest  of  Montevideo’s  plazas  lies 
over  against  this  sorry  monmnent  of  Foreign  Office — or  is 
it  Treasury  ? — parsimony.  You  may  sit  here,  in  the  shade 
of  the  giant  palms,  and  reflect  at  leisure  on  the  miraculous 
fact  that  the  Empire  has  hitherto  survived  the  crass 
bungling  of  its  bureaucrats.  It  is,  indeed,  an  extraordinary 
thing  that  in  those  countries  where  the  most  rudimentary 
common  sense  should  indicate  the  necessity  for  keeping 
up  a dignified  appearance,  you  will  find  Great  Britain’s 
representatives  tucked  away  in  mean  back  streets,  lodged 
with  far  less  distinction  than  their  colleagues  of  China  or 
Peru.  Like  the  Consulate  General  at  Rio,  our  local 
habitation  here  bears  eloquent  testimony  to  the  penny  wise, 
pound  foolish,  policy,  which  has  apparently  survived  the 
monstrous  waste  of  the  past  five  years;  both  serve  to 
impress  modesty  upon  the  gentlemen  who  serve  therein, 
by  reminding  them  that,  for  the  Foreign  Office,  South 
America  has  always  been,  so  to  speak,  a kind  of  dustbin. 
Sitting  in  this  peaceful  Plaza,  one  wonders  whether  the  war 
and  its  economic  results  may  perchance  disturb  the  com- 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


225 


placency  of  this  tradition,  whether  new  light  will  ever 
percolate  into  the  innermost  fastnesses  of  Downing  Street  ? 
If  so,  it  should  not  be  long  before  steps  are  taken  to  have 
Great  Britain  represented  on  this  continent  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  indicate  our  perception  of  its  coming  role 
in  world  politics.  In  matters  of  this  kind,  essentially 
matters  of  discrimination  and  tactful  intuition,  our  French 
friends  never  make  the  mistake  of  attempting  to  combine 
official  dignity  with  shirt-sleeve  simplicity  in  a back  street. 

If  you  would  seek  another  subject  for  profitable  medita- 
tion, take  the  road  that  runs  northwards  by  the  sea  and 
visit  the  Campo  Santo.  There,  between  high  walls,  in 
narrow  cypress-shrouded  ways,  bedecked  with  artificial 
flowers,’neath  monumental  stones  and  effigies,  Monte video- 
that-was  rests  from  its  labour,  and  Montevideo-that-is 
comes  here,  with  almost  Oriental  piety,  to  remember 
and  reverence  its  dead.^ 

It  is  said  that  the  last  thing  which  a self-respecting 
family  will  part  with,  when  in  financial  need,  is  its  burial 
vault  in  this  honoured  site,  though  the  competition  of  the 
nouveaux  riches  for  admission  to  the  society  of  the  well-born 
and  weU-dead  is  very  keen.  The  keynote  of  these  effigies 
and  epitaphs  is  undoubtedly  domestic  and  filial  affection, 
very  simple  and  sincere;  some  of  the  art  which  attempts 
to  express  it  is  curiously  artless  and  primitive,  reminding 
one  of  the  home-made  obituary  verses  which  one  sees 

^ The  oldest  monuments  and  memorial  tablets  in  this  cemetery 
date  back  no  further  than  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth 
century,  and  nobody  seems  to  know  (or  care)  what  has  become 
of  the  monuments — there  must  have  been  some — of  their  ancestors 
of  the  eighteenth.  All  Montevideo’s  history  seems  to  date  from 
the  year  1808;  as  far  as  outward  and  visible  signs  are  con- 
cerned, Colonial  Spain  and  the  Conquistadores  might  never 
have  set  foot  in  the  Banda  Oriental.  The  Cathedral  boasts 
but  one  monument,  viz.  that  of  an  archbishop  of  the  nineteenth 
century. 

Q 


226  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

published  with  the  announcement  of  bereavements  in 
Scotch  and  Irish  provincial  papers.  Sometimes  these 
monuments  are  pompous  and  vulgar;  here  and  there  you 
will  find  the  pitiful  solecism  of  a framed  photograph  of 
the  deceased,  generally  in  his  dress  suit,  horribly  con- 
flicting with  one’s  conceptions  of  decent  immortality ; but 
on  the  whole,  the  atmosphere  of  this  city  of  the  dead  is 
restful,  dignified,  and  of  good  hope,  and  there  is  evidence 
at  every  step  that  the  departed  are  held  in  kindly  remem- 
brance by  the  living.  And  further  northwards,  looking  out 
to  sea,  beyond  Pocitos,  lies  the  British  cemetery,  a very 
beautiful  burial-ground. 

The  Cerro — Montevideo’s  landmark  from  the  sea — should 
be  the  city’s  finest  public  park  and  recreation  place,  but 
the  fashionable  world  has  moved  in  the  other  direction, 
towards  Pocitos  and  Carrasco,  and  the  little  hill,  with  its 
old  Spanish  fort  and  lighthouse,  is  a melancholy  spot. 
Its  approaches  and  vicinity  are  squalid  in  the  extreme; 
squatters’  huts,  corrugated  iron  shanties,  broken-down 
fences,  rubbish  heaps  and  wandering  goats,  all  remind  one 
of  the  outskirts  of  some  unkempt  new  town  of  the  woolly 
west  in  Canada  or  the  United  States.  But  for  me,  as  I sat 
on  a wall  of  the  fort  and  viewed  the  landscape  o’er,  the 
melancholy  destiny  of  the  spot  was  emphasised,  not  so 
much  by  its  unattractive  appearance  as  by  consciousness 
of  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  saladero,  that  hideous 
place  of  slaughter  where,  aU  day  long  and  every  day, 
great  herds  of  doomed  beasts  stand  on  the  bleak  hill- 
side, with  mounted  men  that  stand  guard  over  them, 
awaiting  their  turn  to  walk  the  narrow  inclined  way,  that 
leads  to  the  upper  floor  of  the  building,  a sledge-hammer, 
and  swift  death.  I never  see  the  “ Monte  ” now  without 
thinking  of  those  poor  patient  beasts,  as  I saw  them  one 
rainy  day  in  August  1916,  all  huddled  up,  mournfully 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


227 


lowing,  in  that  grim  vestibule  of  the  canning  factory. 
There  had  been  a slackening  of  the  sledge-hammer — 
shortage  of  freight,  or  something — during  the  past  week, 
and  so  it  happened  that  several  troops  of  cattle  had  waited 
here  for  more  than  a day,  unwatered  and  unfed.  One 
longed  to  speed  up  the  machinery,  to  hasten  the  progress  of 
that  sad  procession.  The  Irishman  who  showed  us  over 
the  factory,  where  the  suspended  carcases  circulate 
between  cutters  and  flayers  from  the  killing-pen  to  the 
freezing -room,  told  us  that  all  this  meat  was  going  to 
France  for  the  troops.  Say  what  you  will,  there  is  some- 
thing wrong  with  a system  of  creation  which  compels 
intelligent  human  beings  to  supply  themselves  with 
energy,  wherewith  to  slay  their  fellowmen,  by  killing  and 
eating  the  beasts  of  the  field.  The  system  is  probably 
tentative  and  provisional  only,  but  there  is  no  denying 
in  the  meanwhile,  that  this  planet  would  have  been  made 
a far  pleasanter  place  of  residence  for  man  and  beast  had 
these  things  been  arranged  differently.  I confess  a 
sympathy  with  the  Buddhists’  attitude  in  this  matter. 
It  offers  no  solution  as  to  the  disposal  of  swiftly  multiplying 
animal  life,  but  as  a humane  creed  I prefer  it  to  “ Rise, 
Peter,  kill  and  eat.” 

The  worthy  couple  who  devised  and  made  the  zoological 
garden  and  raree-show  at  the  Villa  Dolores  (lately  be- 
queathed to  the  city)  must  have  been  original  characters, 
possessed  of  a very  lively  sympathy  for  animals  and 
children.  Their  ideas  on  the  subject  of  architecture,  art, 
and  landscape  gardening,  as  here  displayed,  are  hardly 
calculated  to  teach  the  young  idea  how  to  shoot,  but 
seldom  have  I seen  birds  and  beasts  display  such  evidence 
of  health  and  cheerful  resignation  under  captivity.  And 
then,  the  animals’  cemetery,  all  set  about  with  roses,  each 
little  grave  with  its  appropriate  monument.  This,  and  the 


228  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

fearful  and  wonderful  collection  of  waxworks  and  mechani- 
cal toys,  and  the  sleek  glossiness  of  the  birds  and  beasts, 
proclaim  the  simple  virtues  of  the  departed.  The  whole 
place  is  interesting  as  the  work  of  rugged,  kindly,  unedu- 
cated minds,  carr5dng  out  their  own  whimsical  ideas, 
regardless  of  cost  and  quite  indifferent  to  public  opinion. 
It  is  a peculiarly  complex  benevolence  which  condemns 
a couple  of  polar  bears  to  pass  their  lives  in  a subtropical 
garden,  and  adorns  their  cage  with  an  inscription  begging 
the  public  to  be  kind  to  animals. 

Close  to  the  Villa  Dolores  lies  the  fashionable  bathing 
beach  of  Pocitos.  To  reach  it  you  pass  through  a well-to- 
do  suburban  district  which,  with  the  eye  of  faith,  you  can 
see  in  years  to  come  growing  to  the  opulence  and  splendour 
of  Palermo,  rivalling  the  seats  of  the  mighty  cattle  kings  of 
Argentina.  But  for  the  present,  generally  speaking,  there 
is  an  unfinished,  transient  look  about  these  environs,  a 
curious  admixture  of  prosperous  bourgeois  comfort  and 
shirt-sleeve  sans-gene,  often  reminiscent  of  the  back  lots 
of  Canadian  towns  or  the  datchas  of  Southern  Russia.  The 
public  gardens  and  the  sea-front  promenade,  which  runs 
from  Pocitos  to  the  Parque  Urbano,  are  all  very  modern 
and  imposing,  but  cheek  by  jowl  with  the  ornate  quintas  of 
the  rich  you  find  ragged  little  fenced-in  lots  with  tin-pot 
shanties,  homes  of  the  popcorn  vendors  and  the  humble 
washerwoman.  The  owner  of  a Rolls-Royce  car  marches 
with  the  plebeian  proprietor  of  an  alfresco  skittle  alley.  It 
is  all  very  cheerfully  democratic,  no  doubt,  but  the  scenic 
effects  are  disappointing.  ^ 

At  the  Parque  Hotel,  or  Casino  Municipal,  the  nimble 

1 One  sees  the  same  democratic  sans-gene  in  the  heart  of  the 
city — private  mansions  and  Government  offices  sandwiched  in 
between  the  butcher,  the  baker,  and  the  candlestick-maker. 
The  Ministry  for  Foreign  Affairs,  for  example,  in  the  Calle  Rincon 
has  a druggist  and  a draper  on  its  borders. 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


229 


ball  rolls  round  the  roulette  wheel  every  afternoon  and 
evening  for  the  benefit  of  a Government  which  is  nothing 
if  not  moral  and  benevolent.  Here  in  the  summer  months 
(October  to  April)  society  foregathers  to  disport  itself — 
mothers  with  daughters  to  marry,  mothers  with  children 
to  bathe,  estancieros  with  money  to  bum — and  the  State 
Hotel  does  them  very  well  indeed  at  $8  gold  per  diem. 
The  cuisine  is  up  to  the  best  Ritz-Carlton  standard,  and  the 
service  unusually  good.  As  at  Monte  Carlo,  the  canny 
visitor  who  does  not  gamble  gets  many  benefits  at  the 
punter’s  expense.  So  does  the  hotel  staff;  and  it  shows 
no  signs  of  following  the  path  of  Bolshevism,  which  has 
made  the  hotels  of  Buenos  Aires  uncomfortable  places  of 
wrath.  A waiter  at  the  Barque  draws  $50  a month  {£12 
at  1919  exchange)  with  everything  found  and  tips  on  a 
liberal  scale;  he  is  therefore  better  off  than  a British 
captain  on  retired  pay,  and  seems  to  have  grasped  the  fact 
that  he  has  not  much  to  gain  by  listening  to  the  greasy 
Poles  and  ranting  Catalans  who  come  over  from  the  Argen- 
tine to  proclaim  the  doom  of  the  bloated  bourgeois.  The 
Casino  staff  have  got  a soft  thing,  and  they  know  it.  There- 
fore the  travelling  Argentine  finds  here  a pleasant  haven 
of  refuge  from  the  slings  and  arrows  of  his  Republic’s  out- 
rageous socialism,  a spot  where  efficient  service  and  civility 
are  not  considered  to  be  beneath  the  dignity  of  waiters, 
porters  and  housemaids.  All  the  same,  even  here  the 
traveller  is  gently  reminded  of  the  simple  dignity  of  South 
American  independence,  for  if  he  wants  his  boots  blacked  he 
must  go  into  the  city  and  spend  ten  minutes,  coram  populo, 
on  the  perch  of  the  lustrador.  Also,  if  he  wants  his  clothes 
pressed,  they  must  go  to  a planchador,  who  holds  by  right 
prescriptive  the  lucrative  monopoly  of  that  business. 

Music  and  the  drama  flourish  in  Montevideo,  particularly 
music.  It  is  not  only  that  the  people  are  naturally  musical : 


230  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


the  theatre  affords  much-needed  relief  from  the  monotony 
of  their  unsocial  state,  besides  pro\dding  the  fashionable 
world  with  an  opportunity  for  a competitive  display. 
To  be  in  the  smart  set,  one  must  be  a subscriber  for  the 
opera  season  at  all  costs  : families  afflicted  with  social 
ambition  will  stint  themselves  for  the  rest  of  the  year, 
may  even  go  hungry  and  pawn  their  valuables,  to  be  seen  of 
men  in  a box  or  the  stalls  of  the  “ Solis  ” during  August, 
when  the  stars  of  the  operatic  firmament  shine  here  for  a 
while,  on  their  way  back  from  Buenos  Aires  to  New  York. 
As  no  really  self-respecting  woman  can  be  seen  in  the  same 
gown  twice  at  the  opera,  and  as  a stall  costs  $12,  and  a box 
$80,  the  struggle  for  social  distinction  becomes  an  expensive 
business.  The  prices  paid  for  seats  at  the  opera  are  higher 
in  Montevideo  than  anywhere  in  the  world,  but  the 
performances  are  usually  inferior  to  those  given  in  Buenos 
Aires.  The  stars  are  of  the  first  magnitude,  but  the  ballet 
and  chorus  are  greatly  reduced,  for  the  troupe  which  plays 
in  the  Argentine  capital  from  May  to  July  generally  divides 
itself  on  its  way  back  to  New  York,  part  going  to  Monte- 
video and  the  rest  to  Santiago  de  Chile.  Also,  after  their 
heavy  work  in  Buenos  Aires,  the  touring  singers  are 
inclined  to  be  stale  and  a trifle  careless,  and  as  the  gods  of 
Uruguay  are  nothing  if  not  frankly  critical,  and  expect 
value  for  their  money,  differences  have  been  known  to 
arise  between  the  stage  and  the  gallery.  The  great  Caruso 
himself  was  painfully  surprised  on  one  occasion — a per- 
formance of  Manon  in  igi6 — when  his  singing  was  greeted 
with  derisive  whistlings. 

The  standard  of  music  and  drama  provided  by  other 
travelling  companies,  chiefly  Italian  and  Spanish,  in  South 
America  is  surprisingly  low ; it  is  certainly  dear  at  the  price 
of  a stall — S1.50.  The  Italian  opera  companies  are  often 
so  shockingly  bad  that  the  stoic  endurance  of  the  audience 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


231 


becomes  a mystery.  (3ne  marvels  that  the  inferior  quality 
of  the  majority  of  imported  artists  should  not  have 
stimulated  home  production  on  a larger  scale,  especially 
as  some  “ Oriental  ” play -writers  and  artists  have  shown 
no  little  talent  and  achieved  considerable  success.  Gener- 
ally speaking,  however,  the  taste  of  the  theatre-going 
public  here,  as  in  England,  is  demoralised  by  the  pernicious 
activities  of  the  modern  commercial  impresario.  The 
legitimate  drama  has  become  caviare  to  the  general  public 
because  Demos  has  so  long  been  fed  on  legs  and  laughter 
that  he  has  no  stomach  for  a more  wholesome  diet.  " El 
estado  debe  vigilar  por  la  salud  pubhca,”  sagely  observes 
the  Government’s  match-box  moralist;  a little  vigilance 
exercised  by  the  State  over  the  appalling  slush  served  out 
to  the  public  by  music-halls  and  picture-palaces  would  be 
more  convincing  than  all  the  eloquence  of  politicians 
about  progress,  liberty  and  justice. 

At  the  best  theatres  in  Montevideo — the  ” Solis  ” and 
the  “ Uriquiza  ” — the  unwritten  law  which  requires  the 
separation  of  the  sexes  is  observed  by  the  provision  of  a 
gallery  for  women  only,  known  as  the  Casuela,  or  saucepan. 
The  men’s  gallery  is  called  El  Paraiso — Paradise — possibly 
on  account  of  the  infernal  noises  which  proceed  from  it. 
Above  the  women  are  the  gods,  all  male.  The  appear- 
ances of  virtue  are  thus  preserved ; but  the  absurd  result 
of  this  arrangement  is  that  unless  a man  can  afford  the  more 
expensive  seats,  he  cannot  see  a play  in  company  with  his 
women-folk.  The  same  shibboleth  of  respectability  pre- 
cludes decent  women  from  being  seen  at  the  evening 
performances  of  the  music-halls;  here  the  male  audience, 
for  some  inscrutable  reason,  keeps  its  hat  on,  while  the 
boxes  are  graced  by  the  presence  of  the  demi-monde. 
Most  of  the  entertainers  are  French,  either  of  the  elderly 
forlorn  hope  or  the  youthful  try-it-on-the-dog  kind,  and 


232  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


their  performances  make  one  wonder  why  this  paternal 
and  progressive  Government  does  not  impose  a high  tariff 
on  these  imported  articles  for  the  protection  of  native 
taste  and  talent.  Poor  things,  it  is  little  enough  they  get 
for  tickling  the  palate  of  the  noisy  casino  audience;  the 
price  of  a stall  is  two  shillings. 

But  for  the  masses,  and,  indeed,  for  a good  many  of  the 
classes,  the  legitimate  drama  has  been  ousted  by  the 
" movies.”  The  number  of  picture-palaces  in  Montevideo 
and  Buenos  Aires  and  Rio  is  simply  amazing ; every  vacant 
hoarding  is  dedaubed  with  the  unsightly  advertisements 
of  their  distorted  horrors,  their  tales  of  blood  and  thunder, 
and  their  awful  angel  child.  I have  an  idea,  indeed,  I 
hope,  that  a good  many  “ society  ” young  ladies  frequent 
these  fearful  entertainments  not  because  they  like  them, 
but  because  they  provide  young  Strephon  with  opportu- 
nities for  toying  with  Amaryllis  in  the  shade — not  to  say 
the  darkness — under  her  chaperon’s  very  nose.  I know 
that  in  many  of  these  popular  resorts  the  management 
rings  a warning  bell  when  it  is  going  to  turn  the  lights  up. 
Now,  if  all  the  audience  were  breathlessly  following  the 
horrible  history  of  the  poor  white  slave,  or  the  contortions 
of  Charlie  Chaplin,  that  bell  would  be  superfluous,  wouldn’t 
it  ? Somehow,  I cannot  bring  myself  to  believe  that  the 
picture-palace  attracts  only  by  its  pictures ; but  if  it  does, 
what  on  earth  is  the  good  of  all  our  talk  about  uplift,  the 
progress  of  humanity,  and  the  culto  del  nino  ? I prefer  to 
believe  that  people  go  to  these  places  just  as  they  go  to 
museums,  either  for  purposes  of  flirtation,  or  for  shelter 
from  wind  and  rain. 

Speaking  of  rain,  your  average  Oriental  seems  to  regard 
it  much  as  he,  or  she,  does  cold  weather,  as  an  uncomfort- 
able sort  of  accident,  probably  the  result  of  thoughtless- 
ness somewhere  and  not  likely  to  occur  again.  There  are 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


233 


shops  in  Montevideo  that  display  umbrellas  and  water- 
proofs— Burberrys  themselves  have  an  agency — -but  this 
seems  to  be  one  of  the  lines  in  which  the  Oriental  practises 
economy.  Out  in  the  “ camp  ” one  rarely  sees  an  umbrella, 
and  even  in  the  city,  most  of  the  women  one  meets — there 
are  not  many  on  a wet  day — seem  to  have  made  up  their 
minds  to  put  off  buying  one  for  another  year  or  two.  You 
see  them  out  shopping,  clad  in  light  garments  that  are 
anything  but  waterproof,  hurrying  along  on  their  absurdly 
high  heels,  dodging  the  downpour  from  one  place  of 
shelter  to  another,  and  all  with  a worried,  aggrieved  expres- 
sion, as  if  rain  were  the  sort  of  thing  that  a proper  system 
of  government  would  confine  to  the  country,  where  the 
animals  need  it.  It  is  rather  strange,  seeing  how  they 
feel  about  it,  that  the  city  has  not  evolved  shopping  centres 
of  colonnades  like  those  of  the  Plaza  Independencia,  or 
arcades  after  the  manner  of  old  Berne  or  the  Rue  de  Rivoli 
in  Paris.  Not  having  any  such  protection,  the  entire 
population  lives  and  moves  in  helpless,  patient  discomfort 
under  the  affliction  of  a wet  day.  All  outdoor  work  comes 
to  a standstill;  steamers  cease  loading  and  unloading 
cargo ; the  goods  depots  of  the  railway  become  congested 
with  tarpaulin-covered  wagons.  A fortnight’s  continuous 
rain  would  paralyse  the  country’s  industries,  quite  apart 
from  the  fact  that  it  would  cut  off  all  internal  communi- 
cations. Your  South  American  working  man  has  all  the 
Asiatic’s  horror  of  getting  wet,  and  none  of  his  affection 
for  an  umbrella.  But  long  spells  of  rainy  weather  are 
very  unusual,  even  in  winter,  and  the  sunshine  is  of  so 
reassuring  a quality  that  these  people  are  justified,  no  doubt, 
in  waiting  till  the  clouds  roll  by;  and  the  philosophy  of 
manana  serves  them  in  good  stead  on  these  and  on  all 
other  occasions. 


CHAPTER  XIII 


ESTANCIA  LIFE  IN  URUGUAY 

And  so,  at  last,  we  come  to  our  muttons  and  to  the 
estancia  which  rears  them.  It  lies  in  the  Department  of 
Soriano,  about  120  miles  inland  from  Montevideo,  between 
the  western  extension  of  the  Central  Uruguay  Railway 
and  the  River  Uruguay,  in  a bend  of  the  Rio  Maciel. 
Its  nearest  station  on  the  railway  is  Palmitas,  a matter 
of  nine  leagues  away.  When  the  roads  are  navigable, 
that  is  to  say,  when  the  intervening  rivulets  are  not  in 
flood  and  the  mud  not  over  your  axles,  you  may  expect 
to  reach  it  from  Montevideo  in  one  and  the  same  day. 
You  leave  the  city  by  a train  which  starts  at  8 a.m.  and 
meanders  leisurely  through  San  Jose,  Santa  Catalina, 
and  other  slumbering  places  in  the  sun,  all  absurdly 
alike,  passing  through  country  which  to  the  uninitiated 
eye  appears  to  be  chiefly  devoted  to  the  production  of 
thistles;  unless  the  engine-driver  or  guard  has  found 
business  or  pleasure  of  absorbing  interest  somewhere  en 
route,  you  should  reach  Palmitas  somewhere  about  4 p.m. 
There  is  a restaurant  car  on  the  train  where  you  get  a 
very  vile  lunch,  combined  with  very  excellent  oppor- 
tunities for  studying  types,  manners  and  customs,  and 
there  is  generally  a good  deal  of  useful  local  colour  to  be 
derived  from  the  conversations  of  loquacious  compadres 
by  the  way,  so  that  one  forgets  the  deliberate  sluggishness 
of  the  train.  After  a while,  indeed,  it  seems  to  fit  in  with 
the  family-party  atmosphere  of  the  entire  proceedings, 

234 


- ' ‘ . 

A MODEL  ESTANCIA  : HEREFORD  CATTLE  AT  **  CANTA  FIERO 


the  ESTANCIA  UP-TO-DATE  : " LOS  CORALES,”  RAFAELO, 
SANTA  FE,  ARGENTINA 


[To  foce  p.  234. 


MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS  235 

just  as  it  does  in  other  lands  where  time  is  of  no  particular 
value. 

There  are  two  rivers,  or  rather  two  big  streams,  to  be 
crossed  between  Palmitas  and  our  estancia.  If  there  has 
been  no  rain  for  some  days,  you  can  generally  cross  them 
at  the  road  fords  in  a motor-car;  in  that  case,  the  nine 
leagues  are  only  a matter  of  some  two  hours’  compara- 
tively swift  and  luxurious  journey.  This  may  sound  bad 
going  for  a distance  of  less  than  thirty  miles ; but  in  the 
interior  of  Uruguay  the  calle  is  a road  only  by  courtesy. 
As  a matter  of  fact  it  is  a strip  of  land,  twenty-two  metres 
wide,  fenced  off  from  the  adjoining  “ camp,”  but  dis- 
tinguishable from  it  only  by  the  fact  that  the  thistles, 
burr  plants  and  other  weeds  grow  thereon  more  luxuri- 
ously, and  that  the  part  of  it  over  which  carts  and  cattle 
pass  is  an  everlasting  tangle  of  ruts  and  gulleys  and  small 
chasms  at  the  best  of  times. 

By  the  laws  of  Uruguay  it  is  decreed  that  the  calle 
must  be  twenty-two  metres  wide,  wherever  the  necessity 
for  a highway  has  been  recognised  as  part  of  the  scheme 
of  things;  also  somewhere  at  the  back  of  this  scheme, 
there  exist,  I believe,  surveyors  and  inspectors  of  high- 
ways— unseen,  remote,  elusive — whose  business  it  is  to 
levy  and  expend  sums  for  the  construction  and  mainte- 
nance of  the  public  thoroughfares;  but  official  energy  in 
this  matter  of  construction  begins  and  ends  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  the  capital.  There  has  been  a beginning  of 
good  roadmaking  of  recent  years — one  from  Montevideo 
to  Florida  and  another  to  San  Jose;  but  beyond  these 
efforts  the  Government’s  activities  have  so  far  been 
limited  to  earnest  and  eloquent  confession  of  the  nation’s 
needs  and  the  appointment  of  the  officials  aforesaid. 
Meanwhile,  beyond  the  vicinity  of  the  Metropolitan 
Department,  all  the  country’s  internal  communications 


236  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


remain  at  the  mercy  of  the  weather.  In  the  case  of  our 
estancia,  for  example — and  it  is  typical — a few  inches 
of  rain  mean  that  communication  with  the  railway  becomes 
impossible  for  anything  except  a peon  on  horseback ; the 
rivers  become  raging  torrents  and  the  roads  morasses  of 
glutinous  mud,  through  which  eight-horse  teams  can 
scarcely  draw  a laden  cart.  There  are  often  days,  and 
sometimes  weeks,  together  in  the  rainy  season  when 
even  the  postman  (a  private  individual  paid  by  half  a 
dozen  neighbouring  estancias  to  fetch  mails  and  parcels 
from  the  railway  twice  a week)  is  unable  to  go  his 
rounds. 

There  are  a good  many  things  in  Uruguay  which  the 
stranger  within  its  gates  finds  hard  to  reconcile  with  the 
Government’s  fervent  protestations  of  progressive  virtue, 
but  of  them  all  none  is  so  utterly  inexplicable  as  this 
indifference  to  the  provision  of  reliable  means  of  com- 
munication and  transport,  in  a country  whose  whole 
existence  centres  in  the  production  of  food  products  for 
export.  The  first  thing  which  strikes  a traveller  in  the 
interior  is  the  lack  of  roads  for  wheeled  traffic;  the 
second,  is  the  absence  of  a national  telephone  service, 
obviously  a matter  of  vital  necessity  in  a country  like  this. 
Officials  in  Montevideo  will  tell  you  that  the  blame  lies 
with  the  estancieros,  who  are  quite  content  with  the 
existing  state  of  affairs,  who  desire  neither  macadamised 
roads  nor  telephones,  especially  if  they  are  expected  to 
contribute  anything  towards  their  cost.  It  is  true  enough 
that  a great  many  landowners,  Basques  and  natives, 
and  even  native-born  sons  of  Englishmen,  are  good, 
stubborn  passive  resisters  in  the  matter  of  any  change 
in  their  fixed  ways  of  living  and  doing  business.  They 
regard  with  indifference,  if  not  with  active  dislike,  all  the 
machinery  and  scientific  devices  with  which  practical  and 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


237 


progressive  estancieros  have  replaced  the  happy-go-lucky 
methods  of  the  good  old  days.  If  left  to  themselves, 
exempt  from  laws  and  the  fastidious  stipulations  of  buyers, 
they  would  prefer  to  continue  in  the  picturesque  ways 
and  traditions  of  the  Gaucho,  using  the  lasso  rather  than 
the  hreie}  letting  their  cattle  die  of  garapata  and  their 
sheep  of  fluke  and  lumhriz,  rather  than  be  bothered  with 
cattle  baths  and  windmills;  despising  agriculture  as  an 
occupation  only  suitable  for  Italian  immigrants.  All 
over  the  country,  and  especially  in  the  north,  you  may 
still  see  estancias  conducted  on  these  lines,  and  large 
estates  belonging  to  men  of  wealth,  where  the  owner 
pigs  it  out  in  patriarchal  fashion  in  a tumble-down  house, 
where  the  flocks  and  herds  are  left  to  struggle  with  their 
environment  as  best  they  may  and  the  fences  take  care 
of  themselves.  Estancieros  of  this  type  are  not  unlike 
Irish  farmers  in  many  ways — cheerful  fatalists,  much 
given  to  the  accumulation  of  money  for  its  own  sake, 
quite  incapable  of  getting  any  satisfaction  out  of  their 
wealth  other  than  that  of  adding  field  to  field;  shrewd 
as  a rule,  and  keen  at  a bargain,  yet  ignorantly  wasteful 
and  doggedly  conservative.  The  unseen  forces  of  economic 
pressure  are  slowly  but  surely  compelling  landowners  of 
this  type  to  change  many  of  their  ways.  The  days  of 
the  Gaucho  are  numbered ; the  Ford  car  and  the  motor 
plough  loom  large  on  his  horizon.  Fertile  soil  and  its 
food  products  have  become  too  valuable  on  this  hungry 
planet  for  a land  like  this  to  continue  in  the  archaic 
simplicity  of  mediaeval  conditions.  One  of  the  first 
results  of  the  war  in  Europe  will  surely  be  to  precipitate 

^ The  brete  is  an  enclosure  of  cattle-pens  connected  with  a 
stout  wooden  rad,  passing  through  which,  the  animals  are  easily 
and  rapidly  sorted,  dehorned,  branded,  etc.  The  peons  much 
prefer  the  old  method  of  lassoing  each  beast  and  dealing  with 
it  in  the  open. 


238  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


a flood  of  hungry  emigrants  to  the  subtropical  and 
temperate  regions  of  South  America,  and  with  it  a rapid 
development  of  agriculture  in  countries  such  as  Uruguay, 
Paraguay  and  Southern  Brazil.  But  before  agriculture 
must  come  roads. 

The  powers  that  be  in  Montevideo — educational,  fiscal 
and  economic  authorities — are  all  very  eloquent  in  im- 
pressing upon  the  estanciero  the  benefits  which  he  and  the 
country  would  derive  from  making  agriculture  and 
forestry  a part  of  his  business.  Officials — their  name  is 
legion — are  for  ever  distributing  pamphlets,  giving  lec- 
tures, and  offering  to  provide  expert  tuition,  seeds,  sap- 
lings and  what  not.  There  are  special  travelling  inspectors 
and  veterinary  surgeons  appointed  to  give  instruction 
and  advice  for  dealing  with  locusts,  ticks,  microbes  and 
insect  pests,  for  the  selection  of  seeds  and  the  scientific 
rotation  of  crops.  There  are,  moreover,  a small  number 
of  “ model  ” estancias,  mostly  owned  by  Englishmen, 
in  which  these  things  are  done  to  the  satisfaction  of  all 
concerned  and  the  mild  amusement  of  their  unconverted 
neighbours — places  which  afford  a very  fair  indication 
of  what  might  be  done,  not  only  to  improve  the  pro- 
duction of  the  country,  but  the  conditions  of  existence 
for  the  peon  and  the  chacrero.  But  all  these  activities  of 
officials  and  of  individual  estancieros  are  obviously  and 
hopelessly  useless,  so  long  as  it  remains  economically 
impossible  for  landowners  to  sell  any  crops  that  are  grown 
at  more  than  ten  or  twelve  miles  distance  from  the  rail- 
way. The  official  mind  perceives  this  simple  truth  (I  have 
discussed  it  wnth  many,  from  the  President  downwards, 
and  never  found  it  questioned),  yet  it  continues  to  dis- 
tribute good  advice  and  to  leave  the  roads  in  their  abysmal 
sloughs.  The  thing  is  inexplicable — officialdom  offers  no 
solution  of  the  mystery — for  Uruguay  has  obviously 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


239 


everything  to  gain  in  creating  facilities  for  road  transport 
throughout  the  country,  if  only  because  it  would  give  her 
an  immediate  advantage  over  the  Argentine.  A large 
portion  of  Argentina  is  incapable  of  providing  itself  with 
good  roads  because  of  its  total  lack  of  stone ; in  Uruguay 
there  is  an  unlimited  supply  of  surface  outcrop  granite 
ready  to  the  roadmaker’s  hand. 

Consider  the  existing  condition  of  affairs  as  it  affects 
the  estanciero  living  ten  or  twelve  leagues  from  Palmitas. 
Assume  that  he  or  his  wife  has  gone  to  Montevideo  and  is 
now  returning  to  the  “ camp.”  The  delivery  of  letters  and 
telegrams  being  a matter  beyond  all  prevision,  he  must 
have  made  arrangements,  which  can  by  no  means  be 
changed,  to  have  a carriage  or  motor-car  at  the  station 
to  meet  the  train  on  a certain  day.  He  has  no  means  of 
knowing  whether,  in  the  interval,  the  rivers  may  not  have 
become  impassable  as  the  result  of  local  storms;  they 
may  even  become  so  while  he  is  on  the  journey  from 
Montevideo.  If,  through  any  accident  or  misunder- 
standing, there  is  no  conveyance  to  meet  him  on  arrival, 
he  is  practically  marooned,  and  Palmitas  is  hardly  the 
spot  that  one  would  choose  to  wait  in  till  the  clouds  roll 
by.  Like  most  of  the  smaller  wayside  stations,  the  place 
consists  of  the  railway  buildings,  the  pulperia  opposite, 
and  a roofed  shed  for  horses ; beyond  these,  the  prospect 
consists  of  a vast  untenanted  expanse  of  “ camp,”  oppressive 
in  the  monotony  of  its  unbroken  horizons,  and  a highway 
of  liquid  mud,  stretching  away  into  the  distance  from  the 
railway,  up  and  down  over  the  slopes  of  a landscape  that 
runs  in  rolling  lines,  like  waves.  At  a pinch  you  can  put 
up  for  the  night  at  the  pulperia  (I  did  it  once  in  company 
with  a wandering  barber  and  an  apparently  innocent 
Japanese  hawker  of  soapstone  ornaments),  but  the  sleep- 
ing accommodation,  consisting  of  a billiard-table  and  the 


240  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


floor,  is  primitive,  and  the  general  atmosphere  of  the 
place  somewhat  depressing,  especially  on  the  days  when 
no  train  is  due.  A native,  thus  cut  off  from  his  own  place, 
having  generally  little  or  no  baggage  to  worry  about, 
may  borrow  a horse  and  ride  home ; but  if  burdened  with 
his  family  or  other  impedimenta,  he  must  either  go  on 
by  the  train  to  Mercedes,  and  make  his  way  back  from 
thence  when  circumstances  permit,  or  hire  a conveyance 
of  sorts,  with  the  aid  of  the  pulpero,  and  risk  the  perils 
of  the  road.  An  estancia  connected  by  telephone  (at  its 
own  risk  and  expense)  with  the  nearest  railway  station 
escapes  many  of  these  vicissitudes,  for  the  railway  com- 
pany transmits  telephone  messages,  by  telegram,  to  and 
from  Montevideo,  and  one  can  thus  be  kept  informed  of 
local  weather  conditions.  For  the  marooned  traveller, 
the  telephone  of  neighbouring  estancias  affords  a very 
present  help  in  time  of  trouble,  provided  always  that  you 
can  get  it,  and  the  station-master,  to  work.  The  hospi- 
tality of  the  camp  is  an  open-handed  and  genuine  thing, 
a matter  of  time-honoured  tradition;  not  only  is  the 
wayfarer  sure  of  a welcome,  but  all  the  resources  of  the 
establishment  are  placed  ungrudgingly  at  his  disposal,  in 
the  hidalgo  manner.  So  when  you  cannot  reach  your 
own  place,  you  explain  j^our  plight  to  the  nearest  tele- 
phone-owning  neighbour,  confident  in  the  certainty  that 
he  will  deliver  you  out  of  your  affliction. 

An  estancia  without  a telephone  is  like  a ship  at  sea 
without  wireless;  but,  as  a rule,  the  trouble  and  expense 
of  installing  and  maintaining  a private  line  is  too  much 
for  the  native  landowner,  who  prefers  to  remain  cut  off 
from  all  contact  with  the  outside  world,  except  such  as 
he  may  get  by  means  of  mounted  peons.  It  seems  almost 
incredible  that  men  whose  success  in  business  must 
depend  largely  on  keeping  in  touch  with  the  Montevideo 


LAGUNA  OF  THE  MACIEL 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


241 


markets,  should  be  content  to  remain  in  this  sort  of 
isolation,  yet  so  it  is.  The  telephone  is  instinctively 
resented,  as  a destroyer  of  that  peace  of  body  and  mind 
which  the  native  derives  from  the  manana  philosophy. 
In  sudden  emergencies,  when  he  needs  a doctor  from 
Mercedes  to  attend  to  his  wife,  or  wants  to  know  if  the 
cattle  sale  at  Palmitas  has  been  postponed,  he  will  ride 
over  to  his  English  or  German  neighbour  and  ask  to  be 
allowed  to  send  a message,  expatiating  eloquently  the 
while  on  the  advantages  of  these  modern  improvements. 
In  the  same  way,  when  there  is  a visitation  of  the  garapata 
tick,  he  will  come  and  ask  you  for  the  loan  of  your  cattle- 
bath  to  bathe  his  beasts  at  ten  cents  a head,  but  the 
idea  of  providing  his  own  estancia  with  these  new-fangled 
devices  appeals  to  him  not  at  all. 

Some  day,  no  doubt,  these  people  will  awaken  to  the 
fact  that  what  the  country  chiefly  requires,  pending  better 
communications  and  the  subdivision  of  large  properties, 
is  an  efficient  national  telephone  service,  installed  and 
controlled  by  the  State,  and  supplied  to  all  estancieros  at 
a reasonable  cost.  I do  not  suppose  that  any  member 
of  the  Government  has  ever  travelled  in  Sweden  and 
Norway,  but  it  would  certainly  pay  them  to  send  an 
intelligent  young  man  to  report  on  the  use  of  the  tele- 
phone in  the  more  remote  agricultural  districts  of  these 
countries.  Meanwhile,  and  for  some  time  to  come,  Don 
Diego  and  Don  Antonio,  Don  Cesario  and  Don  Jose  will 
continue  in  their  easy-going  mas  6 menos  ways.  They 
will  ask  the  postman  to  find  out  next  time  he  goes  to  the 
station,  whether  the  sheep  dip  (ordered  a month  ago) 
has  arrived,  whether  there  has  been  any  reply  to  the  tele- 
gram sent  last  week  about  the  missing  plough,  what  is 
the  price  of  petrol  at  the  pulperia,  and  when  the  Juez 
de  Paz  will  be  able  to  come  out  and  look  into  the  little 

R 


242  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

matter  of  fence-breaking  and  missing  sheep,  reported  to 
him  by  the  Comisario  goodness  knows  how  long  ago. 
And  while  the  postman  executes  these  commissions  in 
his  own  leisurely  way  (or  forgets  them  altogether,  which 
is  just  as  probable),  the  sheep  go  undipped  and  the  land 
unploughed ; the  motor-car  stands  idle  in  the  galpon,  and 
the  mystery  of  the  missing  sheep — every  one  knows  where 
they  are,  of  course — ^will  remain  unsolved  by  the  author- 
ities. And  every  day  Don  Diego  and  Don  Antonio,  Don 
Cesario  and  Don  Jose,  thinking  of  these  things  as  they 
suck  their  evening  mate  and  contemplate  the  glories  of 
sunset,  will  turn  each  to  his  wife,  or  major-domo,  or 
capataz,  as  the  case  may  be,  and  breathe  the  magic 
word — the  dreamer’s  comfort  and  the  sluggard’s  joy — 
manana.  After  all,  why  worry  ? There  is  always  a 
to-morrow. 

We  will  suppose,  ne  vous  deplaise,  that,  roads  and 
weather  permitting,  we  are  on  our  way  from  Palmitas 
station  to  the  estancia.  There  being  doubts  as  to  the 
depth  of  water  at  the  Maciel  ford,  the  major-domo — a 
camp-bred  man  of  British  parentage — ^has  come  to  meet 
us  with  a high-wheeled  cart,  something  after  the  style  of 
a Normandy  diligence,  drawn  by  six  horses.  The  sun  is 
fast  dropping  to  the  skyline,  in  splendour  of  gold  and 
rose,  and  all  the  land  lies  as  if  gently  breathing  before 
sleep,  in  a purple  glow  which  deepened  into  darkness  on  the 
eastern  horizon.  Here  and  there,  clear-cut  against  the  sky, 
a clump  of  trees  stands  out,  poplars  or  eucalyptus  or  the 
gnarled  ombii — generally  speaking,  the  site  of  an  estancia 
or  other  human  habitation.  These  monies  are  the  way- 
farer’s landmarks  on  the  uncharted  highways  of  sohtudes 
that  are  eternally  the  same ; the  only  distinctive  features 
in  league  after  league  of  gently  swelhng  hillocks,  of  winding 
river-beds,  for  ever  lined  with  thickets  of  willow,  tala 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


243 


and  nandabay.  Your  peon  knows  every  monte  or  single 
tree  miles  and  miles  away,  knows  how  long  they  have 
been  there,  and  who  planted  them.  Yonder  avenue  of 
olives  and  paraisos,  for  instance,  was  planted  thirty  years 
ago  by  old  Wallingford,  the  man  who  built  the  church 
by  the  roadside,  that  still  awaits  a parson.  Those  five 
great  poplars  on  the  skyline  mark  the  boundary  of  a 
famous  German  estancia,  the  property  of  a man  who 
knew  the  value  of  trees  and  how  to  make  them  grow. 
And  over  there  in  the  far  distance,  dark  against  the  last 
crimson  and  orange  glow  of  sunset,  on  the  rising  ground 
beyond  the  river,  is  the  goodly  company  of  trees  that 
gather  to  a shade  around  and  about  the  quinta  of  our 
estancia. 

Very  silent  are  these  solitudes  of  the  purple  land  at 
evening.  There  is  scarcely  any  traffic  on  the  highway; 
a Syrian  pedlar  on  foot  with  his  pack  upon  his  back,  a 
peon  or  two  on  horseback,  a cart  laden  with  wool  on  its 
way  to  the  railway.  But  generally  the  road  lies  empty 
ahead,  and  the  wire-fenced  fields  that  stretch  away  on 
every  side  as  far  as  the  eye  can  see,  are  peopled  only  by 
grazing  beasts.  Our  cart,  jolting  over  the  ruts  half 
hidden  by  the  rank  growth  of  espartillo  grass,  sends 
frightened  partridges  scurrying  through  the  fences ; great 
horned  owls  come  noiselessly  out  of  the  gathering  dusk, 
beating  the  ground  like  harriers;  the  little  burrowing 
owls,  dainty  Lechusa,  flit  from  one  fence  post  to  another, 
gravely  interested  in  your  proceedings.  A brace  of  duck 
rise  from  a swampy  hollow  of  the  road;  from  overhead, 
rising  and  falling  like  the  note  of  an  aeolian  harp,  comes 
the  drumming  of  snipe  in  the  evening  light.  Now  and 
again  a skunk,  very  busy  and  quite  indifferent  to  public 
opinion,  shows  up  amongst  the  thistles,  a bustling  bundle 
of  black  and  white  with  tail  erect,  that  stops  to  look  at 


244  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

you  impertinently  as  you  go  by.  But  for  the  most  part 
there  is  nothing  to  disturb  the  brooding  silence  and 
solitude  of  the  camp.  As  for  human  habitations,  there 
is  the  half-way  pulperia,  where  half  a dozen  peons  are 
finishing  a game  of  bowls  in  the  dusk;  a blacksmith’s 
shop,  from  whence  comes  the  faint  thrumming  of  a guitar 
with  snatches  of  most  melancholy  song;  a school-house 
with  a drooping  flagstaff — the  children  come  to  it  on 
horseback  from  miles  around ; one  or  two  roadside  houses 
of  small  landowners,  and  here  and  there  the  squalid  huts 
of  agricultural  squatters — the  despised  chacreros — ^just 
enough  evidence  of  human  activity  to  disturb  the  illusion 
of  complete  isolation.  For  the  estancias,  to  whom  these 
endless  acres  of  pasture  land  belong,  with  all  their  flocks 
and  herds,  each  with  its  staff  of  resident  peons,  lie  usually 
at  a distance  from  the  highway,  hidden  amidst  their 
surrounding  trees. 

“ La  Britanica  ” — our  destination — stands  on  a little 
hill,  some  eighty  feet  above  the  river.  Like  most  estancia 
houses  in  these  parts,  it  is  architecturally  without  pre- 
tensions or  distinction,  merely  an  elaboration  of  the  native 
adobe  style  of  building,  curiously  primitive  and  lacking 
in  adaptability.  Its  long  low  structure,  facing  east  and 
west,  contains  dining-room,  sitting-room  and  half  a dozen 
bedrooms — all  opening  on  both  sides  upon  a verandah 
roofed  at  such  an  angle  as  to  exclude  as  much  light  as 
possible.  The  Orientals’  dislike  of  sunshine  and  fresh  air 
is  just  as  manifest  in  the  “ camp  ” as  it  is  in  the  city;  the 
windows  of  these  rooms  are  small,  iron-barred  and  provided 
with  heavy  green  blinds,  so  that  on  a cloudy  day  it  is 
difficult  to  read  anywhere  indoors,  and  even  when  the 
sun  is  shining  one  moves  in  a sepulchral  twihght  all  the 
day  long.  Often,  in  order  to  attain  to  the  depths  of 
murkiness  congenial  to  native  ideas,  the  verandah  is 


LOADING  THE  WOOL  CLIP 


[To  face  p.  244. 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


245 


shaded  by  a vine-covered  trellis,  a very  favourite  gather- 
ing place  for  ants  and  mosquitoes.  At  each  end  of  the 
building  there  is  an  outflanking  wing,  one  containing  the 
office  and  the  other  the  kitchen,  bath-room  and  store-room. 
The  bath-room  is  a new  feature,  a concession  to  European 
standards  of  cleanliness  and  comfort.  The  old-fashioned 
estanciero's  sentiments  on  the  subject  of  sanitary  arrange- 
ments and  domestic  hygiene  conform,  like  his  dwelling, 
to  the  simplicity  of  native  ideas.  The  lighting  arrange- 
ments as  a whole  are  equally  primitive,  consisting  of 
kerosene  lamps ; here  and  there,  a few  English  landowmers 
or  managers  who  have  not  entirely  succumbed  to  the 
seductions  of  mas  6 menos,  have  introduced  acetylene  or 
small  electric  light  plants,  but  these  things  are  only 
suitable  and  safe  in  establishments  where  discipline  and 
method  have  overcome  the  natives’  aversion  to  things 
which  require  regular  attention.  Good  drinking  water 
is  pumped  by  hand  from  an  artesian  well;  for  other 
purposes  and  for  the  drinking  troughs  of  the  horses  and 
cows  that  are  fed  about  the  house,  there  is  an  American 
windmill  with  a large  tank.  It  is  the  duty  of  the  quintero 
— euphemism  for  gardener — to  oil  this  windmill  every 
Saturday;  he  regards  it  accordingly  with  hatred  and 
loathing. 

There  are  men  and  places  in  Uruguay  which  have 
demonstrated  the  fact  that  there  is  nothing  in  the  soil 
or  climate  of  the  country  to  prevent  a garden  being 
made  a thing  of  beauty  and  a regular  producer  of  the 
kindly  fruits  of  the  earth.  There  is  an  estancia  close  to 
us,  for  example,  managed  by  a wideawake  Irishman 
with  a treasure  of  a wife,  where  the  garden  blooms  like 
an  oasis  in  the  wilderness.  All  kinds  of  trees  grow  there, 
olives  and  mimosa,  plane  and  poplar,  acacia,  firs,  and  the 
Austrahan  wattle — and  all  about  it  is  a neat  trimmed 


246  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


privet  hedge.  There  are  orchards  of  peach  trees  and 
pears,  oranges,  quinces  and  lemons ; and  in  the  kitchen 
garden  all  manner  of  English  fruit  and  vegetables.  Roses, 
dahlias,  heliotrope  flourish,  alongside  of  the  gardenia 
and  the  tuberose.  Nevertheless,  all  over  the  country, 
estancieros  of  the  good  old  school  conducting  you  over 
the  melancholy  quintas,  where  a few  mouldy  peach  trees 
rear  their  heads  amidst  a tangle  of  tomatoes  and  invalid 
cabbages,  will  solemnly  assure  you  that,  what  with 
droughts  and  locusts,  cultivating  a garden  is  so  much 
labour  lost.  In  the  same  way,  they  will  not  trouble  them- 
selves to  plant  trees  that  the  locusts  will  eat,  or  such  as 
require  much  care  in  the  sapling  stage.  About  their 
houses  you  rarely  find  any  but  the  paraiso,  the  ombu, 
and  the  eucalyptus.  Of  course,  the  grasshopper  is  a 
burden,  and  when  the  invasion  occurs  on  the  grand  scale, 
the  results  are  heart-breaking,  both  for  the  agriculturist 
and  the  gardener.  But  there  are  years  in  which  neither 
drought  nor  locust  plague  afflicts  us,  when  the  son  of  the 
soil,  were  he  so  minded,  might  eat  of  the  fruit  of  his  own 
fig  tree  and  vine,  and  good  fresh  vegetables.  But  he  is 
not  so  minded.  Tilling  the  soil  he  regards  as  a menial 
business,  only  fit  for  Italians;  as  for  vegetables,  give 
him  a sweet  potato,  or  an  occasional  cabbage  and  sapallo  ^ 
with  his  pucker 0 (all  of  which,  he  will  tell  you.  can  be 
brought  from  Dolores  by  the  postal  diligence),  and  he  is 
satisfied.  One  would  think  that  as  these  people  are 
ravenous  meat-eaters  they  would  need  fruit  and  vege- 
tables in  mitigation  of  their  flesh  diet;  but  the  mate 
which  they  take  at  all  times  and  seasons  seems  to  fulfil 
that  purpose,  for  the  average  peon  is  undeniably  strong 

1 The  sapallo  is  a pumpkin  resembling  our  vegetable  marrow, 
but  of  more  coherent  fibre.  It  will  grow  anywhere,  can  be  kept 
for  months,  and  is  therefore  generally  obtainable, 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


247 


and  healthy.  He  sucks  mate,  impelled  by  the  same 
instinct  that  teaches  a dog  to  eat  grass,  and  the  medicinal 
value  of  the  brew  is  undeniable.  Of  the  ceremonial  rites 
and  observances  that  have  grown  up  about  the  drinking 
of  the  yerba,  and  of  their  effect  upon  character  and  social 
conditions,  more  anon. 

Beyond  the  enclosed  quinta  are  the  out-buildings. 
First,  low-lying  in  the  deep  shade  of  a faraiso  grove, 
are  the  peons’  quarters,  with  their  kitchen  attached. 
Beyond  them  is  a long  galpon,  or  shed,  which  contains 
the  sheep-shearing  machinery,  a wool  press,  a pile  of  hides 
and  sheepskins,  and  a Ford  car.  There  are  other  sheds 
for  stacking  oats  and  alfalfa  and  maize,  and  for  the  carts 
and  ploughs  and  tools.  Around  and  about  all  these,  an 
unnumbered  host  of  turkeys,  ducks  and  hens  pick  up  a 
fat  living.  They  congregate  every  morning,  in  horrid 
expectancy,  about  the  place  where  the  house-peon  kills 
the  daily  sheep;  every  evening  they  invade  the  house 
enclosure,  what  time  the  horses  and  milch  cows  get  their 
oats  and  corn.  It  is  the  business  and  pleasure  of  a mixed 
pack  of  dogs  to  keep  all  fowls  out  of  the  compound,  so 
that,  if  noise  and  movement  make  life,  we  have  it.  All 
these  birds,  even  the  turkeys,  have  thus  acquired  remark- 
able powers  of  flight.  They  roost  at  night  in  the  big 
ombu  trees  near  the  gate,  and  during  the  day  roam  far 
out  into  the  " camp.”  Estancieros  of  the  good  old  school 
will  assure  you  that  this  is  the  only  way  to  keep  hens 
healthy;  the  fact  that  it  produces  no  eggs  is  of  little  or 
no  importance,  the  carnivorous  habits  of  the  true  Oriental 
disdain  such  effeminate  food  as  butter  and  eggs. 

The  peons’  quarters  are  usually  dark,  dismal  and  dirty, 
meagrely  furnished  with  beds  and  wooden  boxes;  brick 
walls  and  floors,  no  drainage,  no  privacy  and  no  attempt 
at  comfort  or  sanitation,  Yet  the  men  who  eat  and  sleep 


248  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


in  these  hovels  are  a very  decent,  self-respecting  lot,  men 
whose  conversation  and  manners  are  generally  more 
polished,  more  imbued  with  native  dignity,  than  those  of 
most  workmen  at  the  centres  of  our  civihsation.  Beneath 
the  simplicity  and  swaggering  indifference  to  domesticity 
ot  the  Gaucho  stock,  there  lies  not  only  a deep  vein  of 
romantic  sentimentality,  but  a great  deal  of  natural  good 
breeding,  kindly  philosophy  and  instinctive  good  taste; 
so  that  the  humblest  peon  bears  himself  with  unaffected 
ease  and  dignity  wherever  he  may  be.  I never  see  the 
quarters  assigned  to  these  men  without  wondering  whether, 
as  most  landowners  assert,  they  really  would  not  thank 
you  for  better  accommodation  or  appreciate  some  con- 
veniences and  comforts  of  civilised  existence.  I cannot 
quite  convince  myself  that,  because  their  philosophy  is 
ever  cheerful,  and  their  tastes  unfastidious,  one  is  justified 
in  housing  them  less  decently  than  pedigree  cattle.  And 
I never  see  Pedro  and  Sancho  and  Pantaleon,  all  got  up 
in  their  Sunday  best,  ponchos  and  silk  neckcloths  and 
silver-mounted  harness,  without  wondering  how  they 
reconcile  all  this  brave  finery  with  the  squalor  of  their 
sleeping  and  eating  places. 

The  permanent  staff  which  dwells  in  our  quarters 
consists  of  seven  men,  who  are  paid  by  the  month.  These 
include  the  house-peon,  whose  business  it  is  to  keep  the 
compound  tidy,  kill  and  prepare  the  daily  meat,  feed  the 
pigs  and  milch  cows  and  do  odd  jobs,  the  peon’s  cook 
who  attends  also  to  the  curing  and  drying  of  hides  and 
skins,  and  the  quintero,  or  gardener,  always  ready  to 
volunteer  for  any  and  every  job  that  will  take  him  away 
from  the  garden.  The  other  four  men  attend  to  the 
routine  work  of  the  estancia — bathing  and  dosing  sheep, 
going  the  daily  round  of  the  camp,  looking  after  the 
cattle,  repairing  fences,  and  so  on.  In  addition  to  these. 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


249 


there  are  generally  a number  of  day  men,  engaged  for 
special  jobs;  fence-makers,  who  work  on  mileage  con- 
tracts, ploughmen,  mechanics,  masons,  horse-tamers, 
sheep-shearers,  nomads  of  various  kinds,  paid  by  the 
day  or  by  the  job,  whose  visible  worldly  wealth  consists 
of  a horse  and  a small  bundle  of  clothes.  Some  of  the 
permanent  staff  have  been  years  on  the  place,  but  as  a 
rule  the  peon  is  a capricious  wanderer,  moving  from  one 
place  to  another  merely  for  the  sake  of  change.  Their 
wages  vary  from  ten  to  fifteen  dollars — £2  to  £3  a month, 
with  food  provided  by  the  estancia. 

The  female  staff  consists  of  a cook — frequently  the  wife 
of  one  of  the  peons — and  a housemaid;  these  share  a 
bedroom  in  the  kitchen  wing.  As  a rule  the  women 
engaged  for  work  of  this  kind  in  the  “ camp  ” are  the  better 
for  being  either  old  or  ugly.  If  physically  attractive, 
the  performance  of  their  duties  is  bound  to  suffer,  sooner 
or  later,  from  sentimental  complications,  the  end  of 
which  is  to  add  one  more  to  the  long  list  of  Uruguay’s 
illegitimate  children.  Oiir  cook,  who  rejoices  in  the 
name  of  Nicasia,  is  no  longer  young  or  beautiful;  she 
shows  no  signs  of  a romantic  or  even  flighty  disposition, 
but  perseveres  nevertheless  in  a sort  of  routine  habit  of 
maternity.  Her  latest  offspring,  aged  six  months,  spends 
its  days  and  develops  its  lungs  in  a wool-lined  box  in  the 
kitchen,  and  rumour  says  that  she  has  left  five  other 
little  pledges  of  her  promiscuous  infatuations  with 
relatives  or  charitable  institutions  in  various  parts  of  the 
country.  These  native  women  of  the  humbler  classes 
conform  outwardly  to  the  national  code  of  circumspection 
and  are  as  careful  of  appearances  as  any  fine  lady  of  the 
capital;  but,  under  the  rose,  their  domestic  morality  is 
entirely  a matter  of  primitive  instincts  and  opportunity. 
It  is  one  of  many  inexplicable  things  in  this  part  of  the 


250  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


world  that  a democratic  State  which  professes  deep 
concern  for  the  well-being  of  the  people  and  devotion  to 
high  ideals,  should  have  gone  out  of  its  way  to  discourage 
the  religious  ceremony  of  matrimony  and  should  fail 
to  protect  the  unmarried  mother  by  compelling  the  father 
to  pay  for  the  maintenance  of  his  child.  What  on  earth 
is  the  good  of  all  these  solemn  conferences  of  professors 
and  politicians  about  child  welfare,  while  the  law  allows 
men  to  escape  the  fundamental  obligations  of  a parent 
and  nothing  is  done,  as  far  as  the  bulk  of  the  population 
is  concerned,  to  establish  society  on  a basis  of  decent 
homes  ? 

Our  housemaid  answers  to  the  name  of  Benita.  I 
often  wonder  how  and  where  these  illiterate  people  find 
the  preposterous  names  which  they  inflict  upon  their 
defenceless  offspring,  especially  as  for  most  of  them  there 
is  neither  priest  nor  dominie  to  consult  in  the  matter. 
Of  course  the  saints  and  festivals  of  the  Church  supply 
a great  many,  and  these  are  to  be  found  in  every  cheap 
almanac,  but  who  assists  these  fond  mothers  to  extract 
names  for  their  infants  from  the  depths  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment, the  muster  rolls  of  ancient  mythology,  and  the 
chronicles  of  Roman  history  ? Natividad  and  Concepcion 
are  awful  but  explicable ; but  whence  came  Claudia,Lucretia 
and  Aurelia  to  the  “camp”;  who  invented  Penelope 
of  the  Pampas,  and  who  first  thought  of  calling  a female 
child  Generosa?  And  the  men  stagger  under  burdens 
just  as  grievous.  Cesario  and  Jesus  go  a sheep-dipping 
together.  Macedonio  and  Baltasar,  Romeo  and  Fausto 
round  up  the  cattle  on  a thousand  hills. 

But  to  return  to  our  housemaid.  Benita  is  engaged 
to  be  married  next  year  to  an  honest  mecanico  in  Dolores 
(the  marriage  may  have  to  come  off  sooner,  of  course,  in 
anticipation  of  an  iiiterpsting  event),  and  she  is  working 


THE  CAPATAZ 


[To  face  p.  250. 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


251 


to  earn  the  cost  of  a combined  trousseau  and  layette.  A 
good  girl  is  Benita,  steady,  honest  and  cheerful,  essentially 
native  in  all  her  ways,  and  speaking  no  language  but 
Spanish;  yet  she  has  the  face  and  features  of  a typical 
English  country  lass.  Hers  is  a history  not  uncommon 
in  these  parts;  she  is  the  daughter  of  an  English  sailor, 
one  of  the  many  wanderers  who,  deserting  from  ships  in 
the  River  Plate,  drifted  up  country,  working  their  way 
as  peons  from  one  esiancia  to  another,  and  finally  settling 
down  as  married  men  in  some  small  rancho.  There  is 
a world  of  unperceived  romance,  and  something  of  tragedy; 
for  me  in  this  purely  English  type,  blooming  here  in  an 
alien  land,  all  unconscious  of  its  birthright.  Sometimes; 
when  there  are  guests  and  she  stands  silently  waiting 
to  refill  the  mate,  in  the  typically  patient  attitude  of  the 
“ Oriental  ” serving- woman,  there  comes  a look  upon 
her  face  as  if  she  heard,  afar  off  and  mysterious,  the 
voices  of  her  own  people.  She  doesn’t,  I know ; probably 
she  knows  nothing  about  England,  for  her  father  died 
when  she  was  a baby.  But  it  pleases  me  to  think  so, 
all  the  same. 

A good  deal  of  English  blood  has  made  its  way  into 
these  backwaters  and  by-ways  of  the  Pampas  and  then 
lost  itself.  Amongst  the  peons  who  go  racing  on  a Sunday 
afternoon  you  will  find  good  old  English,  Scotch  and 
Irish  names,  pronounced  d I’espagnole,  attached  to 
swaggering  native  blades,  all  poncho,  knife  and  jingling 
spurs.  There  is  a curly-headed,  blue-eyed  lad  who  comes 
over  with  messages  from  the  estancia,  “ Los  Cardos,”  an 
untameable  and  vagabond  imp,  known  as  Murfe  at  every 
pulperia  and  racing-ground  for  miles  around ; but  of  the 
romantic  history  of  Murphy  pke,  neither  he  nor  any  of 
his  compadres  know  anything.  I know  one  heir  to  an 
ancient  English  baronetcy,  who  with  his  mother  and 


252  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

brothers  live  the  easy-going  life  of  the  " camp,”  and, 
speaking  no  English,  refuses  to  concern  himself  in  any 
way  with  his  ancestral  acres  and  hereditary  dignities. 

All  around  the  estancia  enclosure,  over  wave  upon 
wave  of  gently  rolling  hillocks,  down  to  the  River  Maciel 
on  the  north  and  east,  and  up  to  the  public  highway  on 
the  south,  stretches  our  little  territory  of  ” Britanica 
camp.”  It  is  a small  territory,  as  things  go  in  this  land 
of  huge  estates,  a matter  of  two  thousand  five  hundred 
hectarios,  or  about  seven  thousand  acres.  Most  of  the 
properties  owned  by  foreign-born  estancieros  and  com- 
panies are  much  larger.  Here  in  Soriano,  the  size  of  the 
average  estancia  is  probably  not  more  than  five  or  six 
thousand  hectarios.  But  the  further  north  you  go, 
towards  Artigas  and  the  borders  of  Brazil,  the  greater 
become  the  tracts  of  land  owned  by  private  individuals. 
Properties  of  twenty  and  thirty  thousand  hectarios  are 
not  uncommon  in  those  parts,  and  despite  aU  the  poHti- 
cians’  professed  anxiety  to  limit  the  growth  of  these 
mammoth  estates  and  to  provide  land  for  immigrants, 
the  rich  man’s  mania  for  adding  field  to  field  is  unchecked. 
The  number  of  British-owned  estancias  in  this  part  of  the 
world  is  comparatively  small,  and  it  is  becoming  smaller ; 
certainly  it  is  less  than  it  was  forty  years  ago.  The 
majority  of  present-day  landowners  are  either  natives 
bom,  or  naturalised  Basques,  Italians,  Swiss,  Brazihans, 
Spaniards  and  Portuguese.  Most  of  the  early  English 
estancieros,  whose  names  and  words  linger,  as  kindly 
memories,  in  the  wayside  annals  of  the  “camp,”  came  here 
and  bought  their  land  when  it  was  to  be  had  for  a song, 
when  a man  could  stock  and  equip  his  place  with  a couple 
of  thousand  pounds,  and  mn  it  for  next  to  nothing.  I 
have  an  old  stock  book  of  "La  Britanica,”  dated  1872, 
which  shows  that,  in  those  comparatively  recent  days,  sheep 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


253 


were  worth  thirty  cents  apiece  (say,  one  and  fourpence), 
horses  two  dollars,  and  cattle  between  five  and  nine 
dollars.  Many  of  these  pioneers  having  made  their  for- 
tunes, as  the  result  of  the  rapidly  increased  value  of  land 
and  stock,  left  Uruguay  for  England,  and  their  properties 
were  either  sold  or  leased  to  natives.  The  Government’s 
lately  adopted  (and  perfectly  justifiable)  poHcy  of  taxing 
absentee  landlords  has  naturally  led  to  a further  reduction 
in  the  number  of  English  estancias.  Under  existing  con- 
ditions, and  at  the  present  price  of  land  and  cattle,  no 
new-comer  can  hope  to  make  money  by  buying  property 
in  this  part  of  Uruguay,  unless  he  has  a large  amount 
of  capital  to  invest  and  is  prepared  to  live  on  the  place 
and  manage  it  himself.  There  is  no  doubt  but  that  the 
value  of  land  will  continue  to  increase,  partly  as  the 
result  of  Europe’s  increasing  need  of  food  supplies,  and 
partly  because  of  the  rich  Uruguayan’s  or  Brazilian’s 
insatiable  appetite  and  jealous  competition  for  property; 
but  the  field  is  no  longer  open  to  the  small  investor,  as 
in  former  days.  Up  in  the  north,  in  Artigas  and  Tacua- 
rembo,  the  value  of  land — when  any  owner  can  be  induced 
to  sell — is  generally  between  $30  and  $40  per  hectario, 
and  until  quite  recently  it  could  be  rented  (for  a maximum 
lease  of  ten  years)  at  $2  a “ square,”  ^ but  prices  are 
rising  and  before  long  wiU  no  doubt  reach  the  level  of 
Soriano,  where  good  average  “ camp  ” sells  for  $90  to  $100 
per  hectario  and  commands  a rent  of  $4  to  $5  per  square. 
Old  estancieros  will  tell  you  that  thirty  or  forty  years 
ago  all  this  land  of  Soriano  was  good  grazing  “ camp  ” 
land  that  would  not  only  feed  but  fatten  cattle.  They  did 

* In  land  measurement  the  “ square  ” has  been  abohshed  for 
all  legal  and  official  purposes,  but  natives  continue,  nevertheless, 
to  reckon  and  describe  properties  in  squares.  Like  the  League, 
it  is  a variable  quantity  in  various  districts;  but  it  is  roughly 
two-thirds  of  a hectario. 


254  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

not  know  even  by  name  the  coarse  esfartillo,  which  now 
covers  the  country  like  an  ever-spreading  garment.  They 
will  also  tell  you  (unless  they  are  passive  resisters,  of  the 
good,  old-crusted  laisser-aller  school)  that  the  quality  of 
the  pasture  has  steadily  deteriorated  since  then,  chiefly 
because  of  the  improvidence  and  ignorance  and  greed 
which  overstocked  it  with  sheep,  and  refused  to  improve 
it  by  ploughing  when  the  rank  growth  of  espartillo  had 
smothered  the  good  grasses.  On  many  estancias  the 
native’s  procrastinating  conservatism  still  declines  to 
recognise  the  obvious  fact,  that  persistence  in  these  time- 
honoured  methods  of  farming  must  greatly  reduce  the 
productivity  of  the  soil.  Overstocking  is  not  so  prevalent 
as  it  was,  especially  since  the  decimating  drought  of  1916, 
but  failure  to  improve  the  land  by  agriculture  is  general. 
There  are  thousands  upon  thousands  of  acres  where  the 
dank  espartillo,  thistles  and  the  poison  weed  mio-mio 
flourish  luxuriantly,  smothering  a small  struggling  under- 
growth of  good  grass.  Estancieros  of  the  hard-baked 
mas  6 menos  persuasion,  will  point  with  pride  to  their 
mio-mio  and  thistles,  as  proof  of  the  richness  of  the  land, 
and  they  will  tell  you  complacently  that  in  time  of  drought, 
when  all  the  good  grass  has  gone,  the  espartillo  serves  to 
keep  cattle  alive.  There  is  no  doubt  as  to  the  richness 
of  the  good  black  soil  that  nourishes  all  this  futile  fruitless 
growth,  nor  any  doubt  as  to  its  infinite  capacity  of  pro- 
duction, if  properly  treated;  but  it  is  curiously  typical 
of  the  “ Oriental  ” mind  to  allow  its  quality  to  remain 
proved  by  the  vigour  of  its  weed-crop,  year  after  year. 
Sooner  or  later,  of  course,  even  the  most  dogged  of  these 
conservatives  must  be  led  by  their  own  experience,  and 
by  the  profitable  examples  of  more  enlightened  methods 
in  their  midst,  to  give  the  soil  a chance ; they  must  learn 
in  time  that  alfalfa  and  oats,  wheat  and  maize,  pay  better 


IN  SOUTH  AINIERICA 


255 


than  coarse  grass  and  thistles.  But  for  the  time  being 
Soriano  is  content  to  see  most  of  its  fertile  land  produce 
a grass  that  sheep  cannot  eat  and  cattle  refuse  so  long 
as  they  can  find  better  pasture. 

The  Government’s  ideas  and  admonitions  concerning 
the  necessity  for  agriculture  and  the  rotation  of  crops 
to  restore  the  productivity  of  the  soil  are,  as  usual,  admir- 
able. Cultivated  land  is  relieved  of  50  per  cent,  of  taxa- 
tion, and  the  Ministry  of  Agriculture  is  prepared  to 
distribute  good  seeds  and  much  good  advice  to  all  comers. 
On  most  British-owned  estancias  the  ploughing  of  bad 
land  proceeds  as  a matter  of  course,  but  it  is  evident 
that  the  country  as  a whole  must  remain  infected  with 
bad  grass  and  weeds  until  all  landowners  are  compelled 
by  law  to  clean  a certain  proportion  of  their  “ camp  ” every 
year,  and  until  the  local  authorities  take  steps  to  prevent 
the  public  highways  disseminating  weeds  and  animal 
disease  germs  as  they  do  at  present.  In  certain  districts, 
where  the  benefits  of  ploughing  have  been  realised,  and 
where  the  railway  lies  near  enough  for  the  crops  to  be 
marketed  at  Montevideo,  the  land  is  sometimes  let  out 
to  agricultural  settlers — Italians,  Basques  or  transient 
immigrants  from  the  Canary  Islands — who  farm  it  for 
two  or  three  years,  surrendering  one-third  of  their  harvest 
as  rent.  Most  of  these  homy-handed  colonists  bring 
their  families  with  them,  and  live  in  hovels  little  better 
than  those  of  Paraguay  Indians.  When  the  farmers’ 
luck  is  good,  their  progeny  increases  and  overflows  with 
extraordinary  rapidity,  but  a visitation  of  locusts  or  a 
drought  means  heavy  infant  mortality  amongst  the 
chacreros.  They  can  insure  against  hail-storms,  but 
against  a serious  invasion  of  locusts  there  is  no  remedy, 
and  many  a poor  devil  has  seen  all  his  year’s  work  destroyed 
in  a few  hours.  Each  squatter  generally  farms  about 


256  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

150  “ squares,”  and  in  a good  year  he  may  make  $40 
a square  from  wheat  and  linseed.  The  landowner  feeds 
him  and  his  family  on  credit  till  the  first  harvest  is  reaped. 
Farming  under  these  conditions  practically  amounts  to 
laying  odds  against  the  locust — it  is  a gamble  which  seems 
to  have  a peculiar  attraction  for  the  Italians,  who  like 
their  labour  seasoned  with  speculation.  There  is  another 
humble  type  of  chacrero,  the  hireling  who  takes  no  risks 
and  asks  no  favours  of  fortune,  who  sells  his  labour  to  the 
landowner  for  seven  or  eight  dollars  a month  and  his 
food,  and  spends  all  his  dreary  days  following  the  oxen 
or  driving  the  motor  plough  up  and  down  the  deadly 
monotony  of  these  half-mile  furrows.  These  men  live  in 
tents,  moving  camp  as  their  ploughing  advances,  for  the 
land  on  which  they  work  is  often  several  miles  distant 
from  the  estancia  quarters.  Since  the  war,  and  because 
of  the  scarcity  of  petrol  and  oil,  ploughing  with  oxen 
has  become  cheaper  than  with  the  motor.  The  chacrero 
teams  are  yoked  and  handled  here  just  as  they  are  in  the 
Piedmont;  it  needs  powerful  cattle  to  haul  the  blade, 
even  of  a light  Russian  plough,  through  the  heavy  black 
earth,  especially  when  it  carries  a load  of  coarse  hummocky 
grass. 

The  stock  of  cattle  at  the  ” Britanica  ” generally  con- 
sists of  about  1200  Herefords,  chiefly  breeding  cows,  and 
some  5000  Lincoln  sheep ; there  are  also  a troop  of  semi- 
wild horses  and  the  small  remnant  of  a herd  of  ostriches. 
In  former  days,  before  the  "camp”  pasture  deteriorated, 
Durham  cattle  and  Merino  sheep  were  the  breeds  generally 
preferred  by  estancieros,  but  experience  has  shown  that 
these  species  have  not  the  stamina  of  the  Hereford  and 
Lincoln  breeds  in  times  of  drought  or  when  the  locusts 
have  devoured  all  the  fine  grass ; nor  have  they  the  same 
capacity  of  resistance  to  the  ticks,  worms  and  other  pests 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


257 


that  lie  in  wait  for  them  on  every  side.  What  with  the 
foot-and-mouth  disease,  carbuncle,  maggots  and  garapata 
to  plague  the  cattle;  with  fluke,  scab,  lumhriz,  birds 
of  prey,  and  the  panic  of  sudden  cold  rains  to  destroy  the 
sheep,  it  is  always  a mystery  to  me  how  these  animals, 
left  largely  to  their  own  devices,  manage  to  survive 
and  multiply  as  they  do.  On  properly  managed  estancias 
the  wretched  beasts  are  continually  being  dosed,  bathed 
and  inoculated  against  one  disease  or  another;  if  the 
Republic’s  multitudinous  laws  were  strictly  enforced  on 
all  the  others,  no  doubt  but  that  foot-and-mouth  disease, 
scab  and  other  infectious  ailments  would  be  far  less 
prevalent  than  they  are.  But  manana  is  stronger  than 
the  official  Veterinary  Inspector;  indeed  the  veterinary 
himself  is  usually  a worshipper  at  the  shrine  of  that 
lotus-eating  deity.  The  only  laws  which  are  generally 
effective  are  those  which  refer  to  the  registration  of  sales 
and  purchases  of  stock  and  the  movements  of  beasts 
from  one  department  to  another. 


s 


CHAPTER  XIV 


THE  SON  OF  THE  SOIL 

By  the  law  of  the  land,  in  Uruguay,  as  in  the  Argentine, 
every  child  bom  in  the  country  is  entitled  to  citizenship 
as  a son  of  the  soil — hijo  del  pais.  Hence,  by  the  way, 
the  existence  and  official  recognition  of  the  dual  nation- 
ality of  Anglo-Argentines  and  Anglo-Orientals,  a very 
delicate  and  complicated  business  in  time  of  war.  The 
son  of  an  Englishman  may,  if  he  so  desire  and  declare, 
retain  his  undivided  nationality;  but  as  a general  rule, 
unless  educated  in  England,  the  tendency  of  the  native- 
born  is  to  become  Spanish-speaking,  Spanish-thinking 
South  Americans,  and  to  take  life  as  the  natives  take  it. 
Indeed,  a man  need  not  be  born  in  the  country  to  become 
so  imbued  with  the  comfortable  philosophy  of  manana 
and  mas  6 menos  that  the  strenuous  qualities  of  the  Anglo- 
Saxon,  all  his  painstaking  energies,  fall  gently  from  him 
hke  a creed  outworn.  Swiftly  insidious  is  the  creed 
which  makes  a man  the  lord  of  time,  who  was  his  bustling 
slave  ! I have  seen  Englishmen  in  these  parts,  estancieros, 
camp-managers  and  " poor  white  ” wanderers,  who  for 
easy-going,  siesta-loving  slackness  can  hold  their  own  with 
any  son  of  the  soil — men  who  will  suck  their  mate  and 
talk  solemnly  of  aU  irrelevant  things  under  heaven,  leaving 
undone  the  things  that  should  be  done,  for  sheer  love  of 
procrastination;  men  who,  in  their  domestic  and  social 
relations,  have  assimilated  and  often  intensified  the 
“ Oriental  ” point  of  view.  The  tribes  on  our  estancia 
frontiers  will  be  discussed  in  the  following  chapter;  for 

258 


MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS  259 

the  present  we  are  concerned  with  the  peon,  the  labouring 
man  of  the  “ camp.” 

It  is  daybreak  of  a cloudless  morning  in  July.  There 
has  been  a sharp  frost  overnight,  and  a pale  white  mist, 
like  a soft  robe  of  gossamer,  floats  gently  in  the  clefts  and 
undulations  of  the  land.  From  the  trees  about  the  house 
comes  a sleepy  twittering,  which  rapidly  grows  into  a 
noisy  parliament  of  birds.  First  to  awake  is  the  bien- 
te-veo,  perkiest  and  prettiest  of  shrikes,  and  next  the 
oven-bird,  that  seems  to  be  always  looking  for  something, 
as  fussily  as  a starling.  From  farther  off,  in  the  tree-tops, 
comes  the  slumbrous  note  of  the  big  wood-pigeon,  and  the 
shrill  chatter  of  green  parrots ; and  then,  as  the  day  breaks, 
a great  choir  invisible  of  fervent  little  singers.  Nowhere 
on  earth  is  there  more  wealth  of  bird  life  than  in  the  South 
American  “camp.” 

As  the  dawn  comes  up,  to  gild  the  outline  of  the  low 
purple  hill  which  rises  above  the  bed  of  the  Maciel,  our 
English  major-domo  emerges  from  his  room,  and,  crossing 
over  to  the  big  gallon,  rings  the  bell  which  says  that  the 
day’s  work  has  begun.  The  peons  have  been  up  for  the 
last  hour,  bringing  in  their  horses,  getting  their  breakfast 
and  their  mate ; at  the  sound  of  the  bell,  four  men  saunter 
leisurely  from  the  kitchen,  saddle  up,  and  ride  out  in  the 
direction  of  the  river,  to  round  up  and  bring  to  the  sheep- 
bath  one  of  the  flocks  that  has  shown  symptoms  of  scab. 
A mongrel  sheep-dog  and  a nondescript  sort  of  lurcher 
follow  them,  ready  to  assist  in  rounding  up  the  sheep 
when  the  time  comes,  and  meanwhile  keeping  a sharp 
look-out  for  hares,  molitos}  and  other  edible  prey.  As 

^ The  molito  is  one  of  the  four  species  of  armadillo  found  in 
the  “camp.”  It  is  a clean  feeder  and,  like  the  tatu,  makes  an 
excellent  dish,  greatly  appreciated  by  the  natives.  The  peludo 
is  a carrion-eater  and  unpleasant. 


260  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


they  pass  out  of  the  home  ■potrero}  another  man  is  harness- 
ing six  horses  to  one  of  the  big  farm  carts,  to  fetch  sheep 
dip  and  other  stores  from  Palmitas.  Pedro,  the  house- 
peon,  lolls  across  to  the  kitchen,  with  a mate  in  his  hand, 
which,  for  the  next  half-hour,  Nicasia  will  keep  refilling 
with  hot  water  and  supplementing  with  sundry  titbits, 
in  return  for  a full  narrative  of  everything  and  every  one 
at  yesterday’s  races.  An  engaging  individual  is  Pedro, 
tall,  dark  and  slender,  for  all  his  fifty  years,  with  a come- 
hither  look  in  his  eye  where  the  ladies  are  concerned,  and, 
if  report  speaks  truly,  no  laggard  either  in  love  or  war. 
A person  of  poHshed  manners,  too,  and  easy  conversation; 
and,  like  most  of  his  class,  an  honest  fellow  as  this  world 
goes;  yet,  for  all  that,  like  the  Chinese  house-servant,  a 
very  expert  absorber  of  un considered  trifles.  You  may 
trust  the  average  peon  with  the  uncounted  money  in  your 
purse,  you  may  send  him  across  country  in  charge  of  a 
troop  of  cattle  for  sale,  but  you  cannot  trust  him  not  to 
make  away  with  food  and  drink  or  tobacco,  whenever 
occasion  offers. 

To  a city-dweller  and  a tenderfoot  of  vegetarian  habits, 
there  is  something  fearful  and  wonderful  in  the  carnivorous 
capacity  of  these  people,  without  distinction  of  classes. 
The  amount  of  meat  which  a peon  consumes  is  simply 
prodigious,  and  the  marvel  of  it  is  that  he  seems  perfectly 
content  to  go  on  devouring  it,  three  times  a day,  all  the 
year  round,  without  asking  for  variety  either  in  its  cooking 
or  concomitants.  At  the  " Britanica,”  for  an  average 
total  of  fourteen  consumers,  a sheep  is  slaughtered  every 
day,  except  when  they  kill  a steer  or  cow ; the  latter  will 

1 All  the  "camp  ” is  fenced  off  into  potreros,  fields  that  in  this 
part  of  the  country  may  vary  in  size  between  too  and  looo 
squares.  The  better  managed  the  estancia,  the  more  regular  the 
size  of  its  potreros,  which  for  good  working  should  be  between 
loo  and  200  squares — say  250  acres. 


i 


t 


LUNCHEON  TIME  AT  THE  BRETE 


[To  face  p.  260. 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


261 


last  them  from  four  to  six  days,  according  to  its  weight 
and  the  weather.  The  peon’s  dinner  allowance  of  meat 
is  usually  one  kilo — lbs. ; he  eats  it  either  boiled  as  a 
puchero,  with  sapallo  and  sweet  potatoes,  or  as  a guiso 
(stew)  with  rice,  or  as  a plain  roast  {asado) ; the  last  being 
the  favourite  method  of  cooking.  In  addition  to  meat, 
the  estancia  provides  rations  of  biscuits — (a  mighty  hard 
tack,  like  ship’s  biscuit,  which  the  pulperos  sell) — fideos, 
and  a porridgy  cereal  substance  called  farina.  But  these 
are  kickshaws;  your  true  hijo  del  pais  lives  for,  and  by, 
meat.  If  you  would  give  him  a meal  according  to  his 
heart’s  desire,  and  see  him  do  justice  to  his  victuals,  then 
let  him  slay  a young  steer  or  calf,  and  cook  it,  gridiron 
fashion,  in  the  open.  The  meat  is  roasted  in  the  skin,  a 
few  hours  after  killing,  over  a wood-fire;  it  is  therefore 
abominably  tough,  and,  to  the  uninitiated,  a gruesome  and 
sanguinary  sight;  but  to  the  native  mind,  came  con 
cuerro  is  the  last  word  in  gastronomic  satisfaction,  and 
they  devour  it  with  a rapidity  and  ease  which  suggests 
the  possession  of  a forty-ostrich-power  type  of  digestive 
apparatus.  Also  they  mildly  despise  the  gringo  who 
declines  to  partake  freely  of  this  gargantuan  roast,  and 
foUow  it  up  with  huge  chunks  of  stodgy  pastry. 

In  the  old  days,  when  a sheep  was  worth  two  or  three 
shillings,  or  even  before  the  war  when  it  was  worth  ten 
or  twelve,  the  workers’  consumo  of  meat  was  economic- 
ally justifiable.  But  with  wool  soaring  to  prices  hitherto 
undreamt  of,  and  full-grown  sheep  worth  30s.  to  40s. 
apiece,  the  cost  of  feeding  a peon  in  the  good  old-fashioned 
wasteful  way  becomes  a very  serious  item  in  the  estan- 
ciero's  budget.  It  is  certainly  a good  deal  higher  than  the 
cost  of  feeding  the  average  working  man  in  Europe.  On 
many  English-owned  estancias,  therefore,  meat  has  been 
cut  out  of  the  breakfast  bill  of  fare  and  replaced  by  coffee. 


262  ]\IEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

farina  and  biscuits.  The  innovation,  though  undeniably 
healthy,  is  not  popular;  many  a peon  will  work  for 
smaller  wages  when  the  padron  allows  him  full  scope  for 
his  carnivorous  habits.  And  as  padrons’  instincts,  most 
even  though  they  be  stingy  in  other  ways,  are  identical 
with  his  own  in  this  matter,  he  can  usually  find  a man 
and  a place  to  satisfy  them.  Making  every  allowance  for 
the  fact  that  their  lives  are  spent  in  the  open  and  in  healthy 
exercise,  one  might  expect  men  fed  on  such  a diet  to 
become  bilious,  scorbutic,  unhealthy.  As  a matter  of 
fact,  they  are  not;  on  the  contrary,  they  are  strong, 
healthy,  clear  of  eye  and  clean  of  skin.  And  the  secret  of 
their  health  lies,  no  doubt,  in  the  beneficent  qualities  of 
the  yerha  mate,  with  which  they  wash  down  these  other- 
wise intolerable  quantities  of  meat. 

The  practice  of  mate  drinking  is  not  only  an  antidote 
to  the  excessive  flesh  diet  of  the  South  American,  but  as  a 
national  institution  it  responds  and  adapts  itself  admir- 
ably to  the  cult  of  manana  and  mas  6 menos.  Certain 
superficial  observers  have  been  led  to  confound  cause 
and  effect,  to  attribute  the  “ Oriental’s  ” habits  of  light- 
hearted procrastination  to  the  insidious  influences  of  the 
yerha,  to  the  languid  ceremonial  of  its  preparation  and 
serving,  and  the  sociable  etiquette  of  discursive  conversa- 
tion which  attends  its  consumption.  One  might  as  well 
suggest  that  the  Chinese  have  acquired  their  aristocratic 
inertia  and  stoic  fatalism  by  the  smoking  of  their  water 
pipes,  a time-killing  device  very  similar  to  the  mat6  bowl 
in  its  mechanism  and  usage.  No,  the  roots  of  the  South 
American’s  sedative  philosophy  lie  deep  in  the  distant 
past,  in  the  cradle-lands  of  the  Moors,  who  moulded  the 
race  mind  of  conquering,  dreaming  Spain;  they  lie,  too, 
in  the  tutelary  spirits  of  this  land,  in  the  voices  of  winds 
and  waters,  that  haunt  the  ancient  places  of  vanished 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


263 


Indian  tribes.  The  cult  of  manana  here  is  an  heritage 
from  Moorish  Spain,  with  a certain  distinctive  quality 
of  gentleness  derived,  I like  to  think,  from  the  Guarany, 
tempering  the  haughty  punctiho  of  the  hidalgo  with 
something  of  the  spirit  of  one  of  the  most  lovable  of  races 
that  our  civihsation  has  doomed  to  extinction.  The 
descendants  of  the  Conquistadores  acquired  the  habit  of 
mate  drinking  from  the  Indians,  and  gradually  they  evolved 
around  and  about  the  drinking  of  it  a ritual  and  code  of 
etiquette,  making  it  a very  corner-stone  of  the  Temple 
of  Graceful  Indolence. 

The  mate  bowl  is  a natural-grown  calabash  or  gourdlet 
(either  Crescentia  or  Lagenaria),  about  the  size  of  a large 
orange,  scooped  out  and  fitted  with  a thin  pipe,  either  of 
reed  or  metal,  called  the  bomhilla.  The  yerha  mate,  the 
dried  leaf  of  an  Ilex  indigenous  to  Paraguay,  was  known  in 
former  days  as  “ Jesuits’  Tea,”  because  it  was  the  good 
priests  who  first  taught  the  Indians  of  their  Utopia  in 
partibus  to  cultivate  it  for  trade  purposes.  The  infusion 
of  the  leaf  is  made  like  ordinary  tea  : but  here  the  like- 
ness ends.  The  mate  bowl,  according  to  native  etiquette, 
is  the  cup  of  welcome,  and  of  speeding;  it  is  an  offence 
against  the  unwritten  law  not  to  offer  it,  like  the  pipe  of 
peace,  to  every  visitor  and  stranger,  to  the  capataz  when 
he  comes  to  make  his  evening  report,  or  the  wool-buyer 
on  his  rounds.  The  bowl  passes  from  hand  to  hand,  each 
person  taking  his  turn  to  suck  it  dry,  and  hand  it  back  to 
the  servant,  who  proceeds  to  the  kitchen — generally  some 
distance  away — to  refill  it.  If  there  are  two  or  three 
visitors,  and  conversation  meanders  as  usual  down  count- 
less paths  of  dalliance,  the  mucama  may  spend  most 
of  the  morning,  or  afternoon,  going  to  and  fro  with  the 
sociable  bowl.  It  would  never  occur  to  any  of  the  parties 
concerned  to  have  a spirit  lamp  and  a kettle  of  water 


264  INIEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

handy  and  to  refill  the  mate  on  the  spot  as  required. 
Such  a proceeding  would  savour  of  vulgar  haste,  and 
interrupt  the  even  flow  of  conversation.  The  attitude  of 
the  fadron  taking  his  mate,  either  alone  or  in  company, 
combines  a survival  of  the  old  Castilian  grand  seigneur 
attitude  towards  Los  Indios,  with  an  assertion  of  his 
patriarchal  and  tribal  authority.  The  woman  who  bears 
the  bowl,  and  there  stands  silently  waiting  to  refill  it,  is 
not  necessarily  a servant ; she  may  be  your  host’s  wife  or 
daughter. 

As  a social  institution,  the  mat6  bowl  combines  the 
business  of  time-killing  (or  time-making,  as  we  prefer  to 
call  it  in  South  America)  with  the  promotion  of  demo- 
cratic principles  of  equality  and  fraternity.  Medical  men 
in  Montevideo,  distracted  from  wisdom  by  much  learning, 
assert  that  it  is  also  an  extremely  active  and  effective 
disseminator  of  infectious  diseases  of  the  throat.  One 
eminent  enthusiast  went  so  far  as  to  give  lectures  on  the 
subject,  horribly  illustrating,  by  means  of  a glass  bombilla, 
the  amount  of  saliva  which  each  person  sucking  at  the 
tube  leaves  for  the  next.  Frightened  by  these  shadows, 
some  ultra-modern  persons,  especially  those  who  dwell  in 
the  to^vns,  have  taken  to  carrying  about  their  o\vn  bom- 
billas,  whilst  polite  society  at  the  capital  and  elsewhere 
has  firmly  established  the  habit  of  afternoon  tea  d Van- 
glaise,  leaving  mate  to  dignified  bedroom  privacy  in  the 
early  morning;  but  out  in  the  "camp,”  to  refuse  to  suck 
at  the  common  pipe  is  regarded  either  as  bad  breeding  or 
the  ignorance  of  a gringo. 

As  a deterrent  from  any  kind  of  physical  or  mental 
activity,  the  mate  bowl  is  a triumph  of  human  ingenuity. 
For  being  a natural  gourd,  and  therefore  round  at  the  base, 
it  must  be  held  continually  in  the  hand ; and  it  is  ob\dous 
that  a hand  thus  employed  (the  other  is  busy  with  a 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


265 


cigarette)  cannot  hold  a pen.  True,  the  idea  of  having  a 
portable  stand  made  to  hold  the  bowl  has  been  mooted 
by  iconoclasts,  but  it  has  made  no  headway ; a mate  that 
would  permit  you  to  attend  to  other  things  is  an  incon- 
ceivably foolish  suggestion.  The  bowl  not  being  meant 
to  leave  the  hand,  you  must  go  on  sucking  at  it  until  it  is 
empty ; then,  as  it  only  holds  a few  mouthfuls,  there  can 
be  no  sense  in  attempting  to  begin  any  work  before  the 
servant  returns  with  another  brew.  Your  estanciero  of  the 
good  old  school  very  properly  regards  it  as  prooi  of  the 
decadence  of  city  life  and  of  the  rottenness  of  the  bureau- 
cracy that  the  Government  has  forbidden  mate  drinking 
by  public  servants  in  office  hours.  Before  they  did  this, 
the  average  Government  office  was  a triumph  of  mate 
over  mind,  and  the  supreme  contempt  for  time  and  place 
displayed  by  the  bondsmen  of  the  bombilla  had  become  a 
public  scandal.  It  was  Whitehall  at  tea-time,  all  day 
long,  without  the  excuse  of  flappers. 

Sometimes,  as  I have  sat  and  watched  these  people  at 
one  of  their  interminable  mate  sessions,  and  followed  them 
through  hours  of  aimless  and  digressive  talk,  I have  been 
obsessed  by  the  hallucination  that  I was  back  again 
amongst  genuine  Orientals.  Like  Kalmuks,  Chinese  or 
Koreans,  they  will  talk,  literally  for  days,  around  and  about 
a question  which,  on  its  merits,  an  Anglo-Saxon  would 
dispose  of  in  half  an  hour.  I have  known  a buyer  of 
sheepskins,  making  his  round  of  our  neighbourhood  from 
Mercedes,  turn  up  at  the  estancia  at  midday  in  a great 
hurry.  Towards  evening,  after  consuming  some  quarts 
of  mate  and  discussing  the  war,  the  weather  and  the  ways 
of  women,  he  went  to  look  at  the  pile  of  skins  in  the  galpon. 
Then,  seeing  two  of  the  men  going  down  to  fish  in  the 
river,  he  borrowed  a horse  and  went  off  with  them.  A bed 
(on  which  he  slept  in  his  boots)  had  been  prepared  for 


266  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

him  in  one  of  the  guest-rooms  as  a matter  of  course.  At 
dinner  and  afterwards  he  regaled  us  with  all  the  latest 
gossip  of  the  countryside — some  of  it,  deep  azure — but 
the  subject  of  sheepskins  was  delicately  avoided.  Then, 
under  the  gibbous  moon,  he  played  to  us  on  the  guitar, 
and  there  was  cafia  and  melody  till  midnight.  Next  day, 
being  Sunday,  he  gladly  joined  in  a neighbour’s  picnic 
with  carne  con  cuerro,  on  the  wooded  banks  of  the  San 
Salvador.  On  Monday  there  was  some  desultory  inspec- 
tion and  discussion  of  sheepskins  (the  value  of  the  whole 
lot  was  not  more  than  five  hundred  dollars),  but  at  lunch 
time  the  Juez  de  Paz  happened  to  drop  in  en  -passant. 
Now  the  Juez  is  famed  for  an  inexhaustible  fund  of 
reminiscent  anecdotes,  most  of  which  date  from  his  trip 
to  Paris  twenty  years  ago;  therefore,  the  mate  session 
lasted  well  on  into  the  afternoon,  and  the  conversation 
had  no  place  for  sheepskins.  The  Juez  stayed  for  dinner, 
and  once  more  the  moon  looked  down  upon  a scene  of 
ambrosial  conviviality  untainted  by  sordid  considerations. 
Next  day  the  sheepskins  were  bought,  and  our  friend 
departed  in  his  tilbury,  but  this,  I believe,  was  more 
because  the  Juez  invited  him  to  join  in  a little  game  of 
cards  at  a pulperia  near  Dolores  than  because  he  was  in  any 
real  hurry  to  conclude  the  business.  In  the  same  way  I 
have  known  our  worthy  neighbour  Don  Mario,  a buyer  of 
cattle,  bustle  up  the  road  from  the  ford  in  such  a hurry 
to  leave  a message,  on  his  way  to  the  railway,  that  he 
vowed  and  protested  he  had  not  even  time  to  dismount. 
Finally  persuaded  to  do  so  and  to  take  a pull  at  the  mate, 
incontinently  all  thoughts  of  time  fell  from  him  like  a 
garment.  After  dinner,  and  before  going  to  bed,  he 
begged  that  he  might  be  called  at  3 a.m.,  which  would  give 
him  time  to  catch  the  train  at  Palmitas.  At  9 a.m.  he 
was  cheerfully  smoking  and  chatting  with  the  Senor 


A LAGUNA  ON  THE  SAN  SALVADOR 


[To  face  p.  266. 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


267 


Gerente,  all  his  business  happily  forgotten,  and  the  face 
of  Benita,  as  she  stood  gracefully  leaning  against  a pillar 
of  the  verandah  was  a study  in  long-suffering  patience. 
He  departed  at  midday  of  the  fourth  day. 

And  this  genial  disregard  of  time  and  order,  this  con- 
tempt for  business  methods  and  husbandry,  runs  like  a 
siren  song  through  all  their  lives,  laborious  though  they 
may  be.  A wandering  tinsmith,  riding  a sorry  nag,  and 
leading  another  laden  with  pots  and  pans,  will  unsaddle 
at  the  estancia  gate  and  offer  his  services  for  general 
repairs.  One  of  the  drinking  troughs  happens  to  be  leak- 
ing, so  you  offer  him  the  job.  He  thanks  you  with  gentle 
courtesy,  but  explains  that,  his  horse  being  thin  and 
soldering  tools  heavy,  he  has  not  brought  any  with  him 
this  time.  He  nevertheless  remains  for  two  days,  appar- 
ently for  the  sole  purpose  of  admiring  the  view,  and  feeds 
with  the  peons.  He  would  stay  longer,  but  that  the 
major-domo,  whose  soul  is  as  yet  unattuned  to  the  wisdom 
and  virtue  of  vagrancy,  asks  him  to  depart. 

The  race  mind,  imbued  with  this  manana  philosophy, 
is  naturally  fatalist,  and  therefore  passionately  addicted 
to  gambhng.  As  far  as  one  can  judge  by  the  outward  and 
visible  signs  of  his  affections,  the  peon's  love  of  gambling 
is  generally  far  deeper  than  his  love  of  women.  He  will 
gamble  anywhere,  about  anything— at  cards,  racing,  dice, 
or  throwing  the  knuckle-bone.  This  amiable  weakness 
makes  him  the  natural  prey  of  the  ful-pero,  whose  premises 
provide  him  with  the  only  convenient  meeting-place. 
The  pulferias  are  generally  run  by  Spaniards,  Basques  or 
Italians;  shrewd  rogues,  these,  vendors  of  strong  drink, 
money-lenders  and  usurers,  and  speculators  in  land  and 
stock.  They  grow  rich,  not  only  upon  the  squandered 
earnings  of  the  peon,  but  upon  the  gambling  propensities 
and  slack  improvidence  of  native  estancieros.  As  a class 


268  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


they  are  despised  and  yet  feared  by  the  hijo  del  pais,  in 
much  the  same  way  that  the  Jew  is  despised  and  feared 
by  Russia’s  peasantry.  The  surprising  thing  about  them, 
to  my  mind,  is  that  so  few  of  them,  comparatively  speaking, 
die  violent  deaths. 

For  the  peon,  though  at  heart  bon  enfant,  and  usually 
of  a reasonable  and  tractable  disposition,  is  still  primitive 
in  his  propensity  to  swift  moods  of  wrath  and  sudden  lust 
of  revenge,  especially  when  under  the  influence  of  the  vile 
liquor  which  many  of  these  pulperos  sell.  The  law  of  the 
land,  recognising  the  danger  of  his  passions  when  aroused 
in  love  or  war,  forbids  the  carrying  of  revolvers  and  other 
lethal  weapons;  but  this  is  one  of  many  well-meant 
statutes  which  never  has  been,  and  apparently  never  will 
be,  observed  in  the  " camp.”  Every  peon  carries  a cuchillo 
in  his  belt,  a formidable  blade  which  he  uses  in  his  daily 
work  for  every  conceivable  purpose — for  cutting  of  his 
meat,  skinning  dead  beasts,  and  cutting  wood.  Drawn  in 
anger,  it  is  a murderous  weapon  and  responsible  for  more 
casualties  than  firearms.  Revolvers,  too,  are  plentiful; 
it  is  safe  to  say  that  every  man  has  one,  who  does  not  wear 
the  belt  and  knife.  Police  comisarios  and  r males  carry 
them,  and  are  as  quick  at  the  draw  as  any  Texas  sheriff ; 
postmen,  pulperos,  and  men  whose  business  involves  the 
carrying  of  money,  all  go  armed.  So  that  at  races,  and 
remates,  at  ferias  and  places  where  they  drink,  there  is 
always  the  possibility  of  a sudden  fusillade  and  funerals 
to  follow. 

The  peon’s  holidays  are  few  and  far  between.  From 
Monday  morning  till  Saturday  night,  all  his  hours  of  day- 
light are  spent  in  strenuous  labour;  and  his  choice  of 
Sunday  amusements  is  generally  limited  to  those  of  a 
celibate  community — horse-racing  and  cards  and  drink — 
none  of  which  is  calculated  to  ease  the  strain  of  existence 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


269 


or  to  bring  balm  of  relaxation  to  his  restless  soul.  In  the 
spring,  what  time  the  lapwing  gets  himself  another  crest 
and  we  live  luxuriously  on  plovers’  eggs,  the  young 
Oriental’s  fancy  turns  lightly  enough  to  thoughts  of  love, 
but  here  his  opportunities  for  toying  with  Amaryllis  in 
the  shade  are  lamentably  few  and  unsatisfactory.  In  the 
life  of  the  “ camp,”  things  being  as  they  are,  Amaryllis  is 
either  vexatiously  unapproachable,  or  so  easy  of  access 
as  to  be  undesirable,  -pour  le  hon  motif.  Somewhere  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  every  estancia’s  community  of  cehbate 
and  sentimental  peons,  there  are  puestos  of  dubious,  if 
not  ribald,  reputation,  inhabited  by  daughters  of  the 
horse-leech  ^ without  visible  means  of  subsistence,  who 
nevertheless  do  live  and  thrive,  and  this  without  much 
scandal.  These,  the  female  servants  of  the  neighbour- 
hood, and  the  marriageable  virtuous  daughters  of  a few 
families — generally  colonists — are  the  stars  on  the  peon’s 
horizon  of  romance.  Marriage  is  unpopular  amongst 
them,  and  generally  regarded  as  superfluous,  for  reasons 
to  which  I have  already  referred;  often,  therefore,  the 
physical  and  moral  state  of  the  peon  suffers  inevitably 
from  his  enforced  celibacy,  tempered  by  draughts  of  the 
Circean  cup.  Not  so  much,  probably,  as  in  the  case  of 
sailors  and  soldiers,  or  other  groups  of  young  men  com- 
pelled to  live  under  unnatural  conditions,  but  manifestly 
so,  nevertheless.  Small  wonder  if,  every  now  and  then, 
Pedro,  having  borrowed  or  saved  a few  dollars,  throws  up 
his  job  and  rides  away,  seized  by  a wanderlust  of  sharp-set 
desires,  in  search  of  romantic  adventure  and  the  fulfilment 
of  dreams.  His  quest  may  end,  with  his  money,  at  the 
first  pulperia  ; but  it  may  lead  him  as  far  as  Mercedes,  to 
revel  in  the  fearful  joys  of  picture-palaces  and  bailes  in 

^ The  generic  term  applied  to  this  class — its  origin  is  doubtful 
— is  ‘‘  Chinas.” 


270  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  IMORALS 

that  bewitching  spot,  to  strut  his  little  hour  on  a stage, 
not  wholly  hopeless  of  Romance,  and  to  return  in  due 
season  to  his  compadres  with  tales  of  love  and  war,  that 
surely  shall  nothing  lack  of  imagination  in  the  telling. 

A picturesque  figure,  jaunty  and  dehonnaire,  is  Pedro, 
when  he  rides  forth  in  all  his  finer},^  either  to  comt  Dulcinea 
or  in  light-hearted  quest  of  pleasure.  There  is  silver, 
brightly  shining,  on  his  saddle-bow,  stirrups  and  w'hip; 
his  saddle-cloth  is  of  worked  leather  on  black  sheepskin; 
the  spurs  on  his  crinkly  Wellingtons  are  an  inch  long, 
making  a brave  clatter  when  he  walks.  In  hot  weather 
he  wears  baggy  trousers  [bombachos),  a white  waistcoat 
and  a neckcloth  of  spotless  white  silk,  tied  in  a graceful 
neglige  that  is  the  very  pink  of  gay-dog-dom  in  the 
“ camp.”  In  winter  he  sports  a poncho  of  ample  folds  and 
fringed  edge,  with  the  white  neckcloth  floating  to  the 
breeze;  and  a very  fine  gentleman  of  the  road  he  looks, 
when  thus  arrayed.  His  sombrero,  a black  hat  of  the 
soft  felt  description,  very  like  that  which  the  Chinese 
invariably  wear  in  California,  lends  a quaintly  sober,  almost 
a Puritanical,  note  to  his  appearance. 

The  neckcloth  is  not  only  the  high  note  exponent  of 
dandyism,  but  serves  also  to  proclaim  its  wearer’s  political 
inclinations,  a panache  of  party.  For  in  the  ” camp,” 
as  elsewhere — 

Every  boy  and  every  gal 
That  comes  into  this  world  alive 
Is  either  a httle  Liberal 
Or  else  a little  Conservative.” 

Ask  a son  of  the  soil,  outside  of  the  capital,  what  he 
thinks  about  politics,  and  he  will  generally  tell  you,  with 
a shrug  of  the  shoulders,  that  he  cares  for  none  of  these 
things;  that  he  ‘‘inscribes  himself”  as  a voter  because 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


271 


of  the  fine  imposed  if  he  neglects  that  civic  duty,  but  that 
the  elections  concern  him  not.  Nevertheless,  every  one 
is  either  a " Blanco  ” or  a “ Colorado,”  a Conservative 
or  a Radical,  as  a matter  of  course,  either  as  a matter 
of  inherited  conviction,  of  religious  opinion,  or  business 
principles.  Very  few  peons  can  give  you  any  political 
reason  for  being  either  White  or  Red ; they  were  born 
white,  or  had  whiteness  thrust  upon  them,  and  there  the 
matter  ends.  But  the  great  majority  are  apparently 
quite  prepared  to  accept  the  prescriptive  obligations  of 
inveterate  party  strife,  and  if  needs  be,  to  ” come  out  ” 
and  fight  for  the  glory  and  benefit  of  politicians,  to  kill 
each  other,  brother  against  brother,  and  father  against 
son,  in  quarrels  of  which  they  know  neither  the  beginning 
nor  the  end.  In  the  past,  whenever  the  political  leaders 
decided  on  a revolution,  or  in  other  words,  on  a struggle 
of  the  ” Outs  ” with  the  " Ins,”  the  peons  knew  that 
every  able-bodied  man  would  be  rounded  up  and  impressed 
for  military  service  by  the  first  troop  of  armed  men. 
Red  or  White,  that  passed  their  way ; just  as  every  estan- 
ciero  knew  that  his  horses  and  cattle  were  at  the  mercy 
of  wandering  bands  of  self-appointed  “ liberators  ” or 
“ defenders  ” of  La  Banda  Oriental.  As  fourteen  years 
have  passed  since  the  last  revolution,  which  drove  the 
” Whites  ” headlong  into  the  wilderness  and  cut  them 
off  from  the  sweets  and  perquisites  of  office,  the  younger 
generation  of  “camp”  men  knows  nothing  of  civil  strife 
except  what  they  learn  from  their  elders.  Also,  they 
certainly  know  of  nothing  in  the  country’s  affairs,  no 
profound  cause  of  public  discontent,  to  justify  an  out- 
break of  armed  strife  against  the  powers  that  be;  yet 
all  seem  to  take  it  for  granted  that,  sooner  or  later,  the 
Whites  will  endeavour  to  redress  with  bullets  the  imper- 
fections of  ballots,  and  that,  when  that  day  comes,  there 


272  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


will  be  no  room  for  able-bodied  neutrals  or  conscientious 
objectors. 

Like  the  peon,  I do  not  profess  to  understand  the 
differences  of  principles  and  policy  that  distinguish  a 
White  from  a Red ; both  profess  the  same  exalted  devotion 
to  the  welfare  of  the  masses.  But  it  is  evident  that  the 
Colorados,  being  in  possession  of  the  till,  are  also  in 
control  of  the  army,  police  and  other  important  strategic 
forces,  and  therefore,  as  a party,  are  much  better  organised 
and  equipped  than  the  Whites,  even  though  the  latter  are 
the  more  numerous,  and  include  in  their  ranks  the  big 
business  elements  (including  estancieros)  and  the  Church. 
There  is  no  doubt  that,  in  most  parts  of  the  country, 
the  “ camp  ” is  far  more  White  than  Red,  for  the  average 
peon  feels  that  the  Government  at  Montevideo  is  unduly 
given  to  conciliating  and  pampering  los  obreros  of  the 
city,  at  the  expense  of  the  real  and  genuine  working  man 
himself.  His  attitude  of  mind,  in  fact,  closely  resembles 
that  of  the  Russian  peasantry  towards  the  industrial 
workers  of  the  cities,  an  attitude  of  suspicion  blended 
with  contempt.  Moreover,  though  he  may  not  be  religious, 
he  is  conservative  and  superstitious  enough  to  dislike 
Senor  Battle’s  rudely  irreverent  treatment  of  the  Church. 
So  the  white  neckcloth  is  fashionable  in  our  midst,  and 
in  seasons  of  drought  and  discontent — such  as  that  which 
occurred  in  1916 — the  man  who  seeks  may  find  Caves  of 
Adullam  wherein  the  coming  revolution  is  eagerly  dis- 
cussed. But  the  older  and  wiser  men  will  tell  you  that 
the  storm  when  it  comes  will  arise  from  the  capital,  not 
from  the  “ camp,”  and  that  there  will  be  ample  warning 
of  its  coming  for  those  who  use  their  eyes  and  ears ; for 
many  politicians  are  also  estancieros,  and  these  will  be  in 
a hurry  to  sell  their  stock  when  serious  trouble  is  in  sight. 

Generally  speaking,  the  attitude  of  the  “ camp  ” man 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


273 


towards  politicians  is  like  that  of  Confucius  towards  the 
immortal  gods ; he  declines  to  discuss  them.  His  habitual 
conversation  is  chiefly  concerned  with  his  daily  work,  his 
daily  bread,  and  horses — above  all,  with  horses.  Where- 
soever two  or  three  peons  are  gathered  together  in  their 
hours  of  ease,  it  is  safe  to  wager  that  they  will  either 
get  out  the  guitars  and  make  music,  or  that  they  will 
suck  mate  and  talk  horses.  Their  music  is  invariably 
sentimental  and  often  of  the  deeply  melancholy  variety; 
it  is  impossible  to  imagine  the  hijo  del  pais  singing  a comic 
song  after  the  Anglo-Saxon  or  French  manner.  I never 
listen  to  their  singing  without  hearing  in  the  distance, 
beyond  the  hills  of  Time,  dim  voices  of  Arabia  and  the 
East,  echoes  of  Moorish  melodies  in  Spanish  streets,  and, 
beyond  these,  the  songs  of  Europe’s  wandering  trouba- 
dors.  I am  sure  that  these  last  must  have  been  very 
closely  akin  to  the  songs  of  our  peon  singers,  and  especially 
of  the  improvisatore  minstrels  of  the  camp 

Conversation  about  horses  comes  as  naturally  to  the 
Gaucho  and  the  peon  as  conversation  about  price  hsts 
to  the  Jew.  There  are  some  thirty  different  words  in 
common  “ camp  ” use  to  describe  the  various  colours,  breeds 
and  peculiarities  of  horses;  the  man  who  cannot  ride, 
recognise  and  discuss  them  all,  is  only  by  courtesy  a 
member  of  polite  society.  The  marking  and  branding 
of  horses,  and  the  precautions  taken  for  the  official 
registration  of  all  sales,  are  even  more  stringent  than  in 
the  case  of  cattle — for  the  horse  is  to  the  Gaucho  as  the 
ship  to  the  sailor.  On  Sundays  there  are  can  eras  all 
over  the  country,  races  consisting  of  short-spurt  matches 
for  two  horses  at  a time,  usually  owners  up,  wherein  the 
peon  finds  not  only  excitement  and  occasion  for  gambling, 
but  matter  for  conversation  and  new  bets  for  a week  to 

come. 

T 


274  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

It  is  strange  that  a people  as  devoted  to  horses  as  the 
" Oriental  ” should  display  quite  unnecessary  cruelty  in 
breaking  them  in  to  saddle  and  harness,  but  such  is  the 
lamentable  fact.  The  match-box  morahsts  have  good 
reason  to  preach  kindness  to  animals,  because  in  their 
treatment  of  the  beasts  of  the  field  most  South  Americans 
are  systematically  and  yet  carelessly  cruel.  For  instance, 
they  habitually  postpone  the  dehoming  of  calves  until 
they  are  ten  months  or  a year  old,  making  a very  painful 
and  bloodthirsty  business  of  an  operation  which,  if  per- 
formed before  the  horn  hardens  in  its  socket,  is  simple 
and  almost  painless.  And  similarly  with  castration, 
generally  performed  at  the  same  time  as  the  removal  of 
horns.  Left  to  himself,  the  hijo  del  pais  would  prefer 
to  perform  these  and  other  operations  with  the  aid  of  the 
lasso,  which,  in  unskilful  or  careless  hands,  often  means 
the  breaking  of  an  animal’s  leg,  and  under  the  best 
of  conditions  inflicts  needless  pain  upon  the  terrified 
victim. 

Horse-breaking  is  a special  profession  in  the  “ camp  ” 
and  the  domador  one  of  its  most  picturesque  figures; 
but  his  usual  methods,  combining  sheer  bmtality  with 
terrorism,  are  a disgrace  to  a people  that  professes  to 
love  and  admire  horses.  In  most  estancias  the  colts  are 
allowed  to  run  practically  wild  with  their  dams  until 
they  are  four,  or  even  five,  years  old  (natives  declare  that 
horses  continue  to  grow  for  six  years).  When  animals 
are  wanted  for  riding  or  cart  work,  a mob  is  brought 
in  to  the  home  corral,  and  the  services  of  a domador 
engaged  to  break  them  in,  at  about  $5  a head.  His 
first  step,  having  selected  his  victim,  is  to  lasso  him  round 
the  neck ; this  being  done,  three  or  four  men  pull  on  the 
rope  until  the  wretched  beast,  at  the  point  of  strangula- 
tion, with  bulging  eyes  and  loudly  groaning,  falls  to  the 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


275 


ground.  His  legs  are  then  tied  and  they  put  a halter 
on  him;  after  which  he  is  tied  to  a tree  by  the  head 
and  left  there  to  pull  and  strain  at  the  rope,  nearly  dis- 
locating his  neck  and  always  hurting  himself  in  the 
process.  When  he  is  sufficiently  exhausted  and  cowed 
by  this  form  of  torture,  another  is  applied  to  " make 
his  mouth.”  They  tie  up  his  tongue  by  means  of  a heavy 
bit  fastened  round  the  lower  jaw;  to  this  a long  rope  is 
fixed  and  passed  over  his  back.  A mounted  peon  next 
takes  the  slack  of  the  rope,  and,  riding  off,  jerks  it  violently, 
so  that  the  victim  has  either  to  give  way  and  follow 
backwards,  or  have  his  jaw  dislocated.  After  this  the 
animal,  trembling  in  every  limb,  is  saddled,  and  the 
domador  mounts  him;  with  a mounted  man  on  each 
side  to  “ mother  ” the  new  recruit,  they  then  gallop 
him  until  the  taming  process  is  concluded,  the  domador 
pulling  savagely  at  his  tender  mouth  all  the  time.  Estan- 
cieros  will  complacently  tell  you  that  in  this  way  a horse 
can  be  completely  tamed  in  a day  ! 

In  former  days  it  was  considered  beneath  the  dignity 
of  the  noblessa  gaucha  to  ride  a mare;  even  now  no  self- 
respecting  domador  of  the  old  school  will  condescend  to 
tame  one.  The  prejudice,  like  many  others,  is  passing 
away  by  reason  of  economic  pressure,  and  the  leavening 
of  the  hidalgo  tradition  by  each  new  generation  of  immi- 
grants, but  a mare  is  still  less  valuable  than  a horse. 
Being  thus  held  in  small  esteem,  her  part  in  the  scheme 
of  estancia  life  is  not  an  unhappy  one,  as  this  world  goes ; 
it  is  certainly  more  blessed  than  that  of  the  cattle  and 
sheep  whose  pasture  she  shares.  For  years  she  may 
roam  the  wide  potreros  undisturbed  by  man,  without 
labour  or  care,  save  that  which  comes  with  her  first 
offspring;  and  when,  in  course  of  time,  they  put  her  to 
cart  woik,  her  long-legged  suckling  colt  is  not  taken  from 


276  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


her,  but  runs  alongside  the  team  all  day  long  and  snuggles 
up  to  mother  to  be  fed  at  every  halt.  The  carters  of  the 
“ camp  ” are  a remarkably  knowledgable  set  of  men, 
resourceful  and  careful  of  their  beasts. 

The  peon’s  cruelty  to  animals  is,  I think,  chiefly  due 
to  a lack  of  intelligent  sympathy,  in  other  words,  to 
spiritual  laziness  and  carelessness — a natural  outcome 
of  his  way  of  living  and  thinking.  In  this,  as  in  many 
other  matters,  he  resembles  the  Chinese  peasant,  whose 
lack  of  mental  activity,  of  sympathetic  imagination, 
prevents  him  from  realising  that  his  buffalo’s  blindfold 
penance  at  the  water-wheel,  or  the  pitiful  condition  of 
his  pariah  dogs,  represent  violations  of  the  Buddhist  law 
of  gentle  kindliness.  Talk  to  Ramon  or  Sancho  of  these 
things,  and  they  will  readily  endorse  your  views;  they 
will  agree  that  it  is  shameful  to  inflict  needless  suffering 
on  los  pobres  animales,  and  profess  to  deplore  the  apathetic 
conservatism  which  permits  it.  These  things,  says 
Ramon,  “ are  cosiumbres  del  pais,  customs  that  have 
grown  up  by  long  usage  and  thoughtlessness,  and  they 
are  very  hard  to  change.  To  these  poor  beasts,  that 
only  come  into  the  world  to  be  harried  and  worried  until 
the  time  comes  for  them  to  be  killed  and  eaten,  one 
should  be  muy  compasivo,  Senor.  But  one  sees  them 
every  day  and  thus  one  grows  callous  and  forgets.” 

Ramon,  the  ploughman,  and  his  peers  were  wont  at 
times  to  discuss  the  news  of  the  outside  world,  and  par- 
ticularly the  war,  as  set  forth  in  some  Montevideo  paper 
that  had  found  its  way  to  the  peons’  quarters.  The  pro- 
portion of  illiterates  is  high  in  the  camp,  in  spite  of  the 
Government’s  educational  laws  and  professed  satisfaction 
on  the  subject ; and  Ramon  happens  to  be  the  only  one 
of  our  seven  who  can  read  fluently  enough  to  hold  the 
general  attention.  And  yet,  for  all  their  distance  from 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


277 


the  sources  of  learning  and  culture,  these  men  seem  to 
me  to  have  partaken  more  of  the  fruit  of  the  Tree  of 
Knowledge  than  the  superficially  educated  humanity  of 
our  Vanity  Fairs.  They  seldom  see  a book  or  a play, 
have  never  been  to  a museum  or  picture-gallery,  have 
had  none  to  lead  them  even  a httle  way  towards  the 
City  Beautiful;  yet  I find  amongst  them  an  instinctive 
perception  of  beauty,  less  vulgarity,  and  a more  natural 
urbanity,  than  amongst  the  peasantry  of  other  lands. 
There  is  nothing  in  them  of  the  bumpkin  or  the  boor, 
hewers  of  wood  and  drawers  of  water  though  they  be, 
nothing  mean  or  menial  about  the  veriest  vagabond 
among  them;  but,  on  the  contrary,  much  inborn  refine- 
ment and  natural  dignity.  And  these  things  being  so, 
what  becomes  of  our  fixed  belief  in  the  civilising  value  of 
a Board  School  education  and  a Ministry  of  Arts  and 
Graces  for  the  Masses? 

When  I said  that  most  peons  had  never  seen  a play,  I 
meant  a performance  of  legitimate  drama.  The  picture- 
palace,  of  course,  is  theirs  to  command,  even  in  the 
smallest  and  sleepiest  of  " camp  ’’towns,  and  the  enterprise 
of  Los  Angeles  has  provided,  amidst  the  usual  muck-heap 
of  maudlin  slush,  some  interesting  films  which  give  the 
picturesque  side  of  the  Gaucho’slife  andsatisfyhis  dramatic 
instincts;  moving  tales  in  which  chivalry  (with  a lasso 
and  a guitar)  and  virtue  (Carmen  of  the  discreetly  glad 
eye,  with  a chaperon  in  constant  attendance)  triumph, 
after  many  pitfalls  and  perils,  over  the  purse-proud 
profligate  (with  diamond  studs,  hired  ruffians  and  a 
Rolls-Royce).  Sometimes  an  enterprising  owner  of 
back-number  films  will  make  a progress  through  the 
“camp,”  stopping  two  or  three  days  at  convenient  fulperias 
and  circulating  handbills  of  his  performances  to  the 
neighbouring  estancias  by  word  of  mouth  or  hand  of 


278  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


peon.  Now  and  again,  also,  there  come  travelling  shows, 
of  the  variety  prescribed  by  immemorial  custom  for  rustic 
audiences ; mountebanks,  mummers  and  marionettes,  who 
know  from  long  experience  just  what  kind  of  fare  will 
tickle  the  peon’s  palate.  These  wandering  Bohemians 
are  ever  welcome  in  the  “ camp  ” ; their  coming  affords  a 
pleasurable  sensation  like  to  that  which  one  feels  on  a 
dark  night  in  mid-ocean  at  sighting  a gaily  lighted 
passenger-ship ; for  the  women,  in  particular,  they  afford 
rare  and  grateful  occasions  for  social  gatherings,  for  the 
display  of  Sunday  clothes  and  company  manners,  and 
the  possible  allurement  of  a novio. 

I remember  one  such  entertainment,  given  in  a tent 
hard  by  a prosperous  pulperia,  where  three  roads  meet. 
It  was  in  the  month  of  July,  when  darkness  comes  at 
about  five  o’clock,  and  as  the  performance  began  at 
eight,  most  of  the  audience  had  to  ride  or  drive  several 
miles  in  the  dark,  over  shocking  roads.  But  they  rolled 
up  in  good  numbers  with  all  the  decorous  solemnity  of  a 
Chautauqua  meeting  and  all  their  best  clothes.  As 
usual,  the  sheep  were  divided  from  the  goats — one  side 
of  the  tent  being  for  the  men  and  the  other  for  the  women, 
for  all  the  world  as  if  it  were  a Lutheran  church.  There 
was  one  family  of  a father,  mother  and  five  daughters; 
father  showed  the  women  to  their  seats,  and  then  took 
his  on  the  other  side  of  the  gangv'ay.  Some  of  the  men, 
in  their  black  hats  and  immaculate  neckcloths,  seemed  a 
trifle  uneasy;  somewhat  conscious  of  their  embellishment 
by  soap,  and  of  the  presence  of  so  many  demurely  glad 
eyes. 

The  entertainers  consisted  of  a singer  or  two,  a boy 
and  girl  who  did  tumbling  and  acrobatic  tricks,  and  a 
clown,  whose  ancient  quips  and  saws,  flavoured  with  some 
local  seasoning  and  sauce  piquante  a la  Rabelais,  met 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


279 


with  much  favour.  But  the  piece  of  resistance  was  a 
performance  of  marionettes,  descriptive  of  the  shocking 
life  and  horrid  end  of  the  tyrant  Dictator — Don  Manoel 
de  Rosas — a stirring  tale  told,  not  without  skill  of  stage- 
craft, in  the  simple  Homeric  manner  of  the  legendary 
epic,  and  at  the  same  time  plentifully  sprinkled  with 
splendid  sentiments  concerning  the  sacred  cause  of  liberty 
and  much  fervent  patriotism.  These  pronounciamentos 
were  apparently  to  the  taste  of  the  audience,  but  whether 
the  applause  was  inspired  by  the  artistic  merits  of  the 
performance  or  by  their  lofty  sentiments,  deponent 
remaineth  in  some  doubt.  Looking  at  the  world  of  things 
as  they  are,  I find  it  difficult  to  persuade  myself  that 
these  peons  are  in  reality  deeply  concerned  about  the 
sacred  cause  of  liberty  or  the  political  aspirations  of  the 
Banda  Oriental.  On  the  other  hand,  remembering  what 
actually  happened  in  Paraguay,  how  the  entire  male 
population  of  that  country,  akin  to  this,  allowed  itself 
to  be  led  to  the  slaughter  in  defence  of  political  idealism 
of  the  maddest  kind,  one  is  bound  to  confess  that  there 
may  be  slumbering  fires  of  fanaticism  beneath  the  peon’s 
inarticulate  insouciance,  for  all  his  pose  of  unconcern. 

The  family  with  five  daughters  had  driven  two  leagues 
to  this  entertainment,  and  it  was  their  first  outing  since 
a wedding  haile,  six  months  before.  Beneath  their 
clinging  and  curbing  conventions  of  genteel  respectability 
there  was  pathos  in  their  hungry  enjoyment  of  this  little 
outing,  of  the  rare  occasion  of  seeing  and  being  seen. 
Laborious  lives  they  lead,  these  daughters  of  the  “ camp  ” ; 
few  and  far  between  are  their  opportunities  of  fun  and 
frolic,  few  and  fleeting  their  glimpses  of  the  great  world 
that  lies  beyond  their  confined  horizon.  A newspaper  or 
two,  a gramophone,  the  wandering  pedlar’s  pack — of 
these  poor  fabrics  must  they  build  their  castles  in  the 


280  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


Never-Never-Land,  and  give  some  habitation  to  their 
dreams.  Yet,  if  one  may  judge  by  appearance  and 
hearsay,  a capacity  for  romantic  sentiment  lurks  beneath 
their  demure  and  well-disciplined  deportment;  as  wives, 
they  are  generally  of  gentle  disposition  and  faithful ; and, 
as  individuals,  of  good  manners,  and  by  no  means  lacking 
in  intelligence. 

Because  of  their  disposition,  and  the  narrow  limits  of 
their  lives,  religion  of  some  sort  appeals  naturally  to  the 
women  of  the  “ camp,”  easing  their  heartaches  and  satisfy- 
ing their  instincts  of  devotion,  especially  when  their  swift- 
fading youth  has  passed,  and  crowding  cares  of  maternity 
no  longer  absorb  their  energies.  But  the  Church  has 
long  since  ceased  to  be  militant  in  these  parts,  and  the 
crude  superstitions  which  linger  here  under  the  name  of 
religion  are  more  the  outcome  of  oral  tradition  than  of 
pious  instruction.  Where  births,  marriages  and  deaths 
are  concerned,  these  women  cling  as  closely  to  the  forms 
and  ceremonies  of  the  Church  as  their  knowledge  and 
circumstances  permit.  But  visitant  priests  are  rare  in 
most  districts,  and  the  cost  of  a christening,  which  may 
involve  a forty-mile  journey,  is  an  item  for  which  the 
peon’s  budget  does  not  provide.  Marriage  also  can  be 
consummated  without  benefit  of  clergy,  in  case  of  need. 
But  death  is  a different  matter;  here,  as  always  and 
wherever  men  live  close  to  Nature,  the  survivors’  sorrow 
must  find  expression  in  pomp  and  circumstances  of 
sacerdotal  ceremony;  man,  for  all  that  he  may  have 
lived  unknowing  and  unasking  anything  of  the  gods, 
must  go  to  his  long  home  in  the  odour  of  theological 
sanctity.  Herein,  indeed,  is  a touch  of  hmnan  nature 
that  makes  the  whole  world  kin.  A funeral  procession 
from  the  “ camp  ” to  the  burial-ground  of  the  nearest  town 
is  precisely  the  same  in  its  inspiration  and  much  the 


GAUCHOS  AT  DRABBLE  STATION,  CENTRAL  URUGUAY 


[To  face  p.  280. 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


281 


same  in  its  proceedings  as  a funeral  in  Russia,  in  Central 
China,  or  among  primitive  peoples;  the  instinct  which 
appeals  for  priestly  intervention  on  behalf  of  the  dead  is 
universal.  The  " camp  ” woman’s  instinctive  desire  to 
have  her  children  baptised — especially  the  first-bom — as  a 
reasonable  precautionary  measure  against  the  powers  of 
darkness,  is  entirely  free  from  theological  bias.  If  a 
clergjnnan  of  the  Church  of  England  should  be  making  a 
progress  through  the  “camp  ” (the  irreverent  call  it  a rodeo) 
from  one  group  of  estancias  to  another,  a peon’s  wife  will 
not  hesitate  to  ask  him  en  fassant  to  baptise  her  child 
or  children,  and  will  heartily  congratulate  herself  upon 
combining  orthodoxy  with  economy.  There  was  one 
case  of  the  sort,  I remember,  where,  after  a dignified 
canon  had  baptised  Juanna’s  latest  (illegitimate)  off- 
spring, the  dehghted  mother  pressed  a dollar  into  his 
hand,  and,  when  he  feebly  demurred,  exclaimed,  " Oh, 
tome  por  la  copa.”  ^ 

Dancing  is  very  popular  in  the  “ camp.”  Nearly  always 
on  Sunday  evenings,  and  often  on  other  days,  the  men 
dance  amongst  themselves,  to  the  music  of  guitar  or 
concertina,  with  much  punctilio  and  nice  observance  of 
ballroom  etiquette.  Chiefly  they  trip  it  in  the  tango 
and  the  maxixe,  but  they  pride  themselves  on  a good 
catholic  taste,  and  have  not  yet  reached  the  fashionable 
modem  style  which  eliminates  all  rhythm  and  graceful 
movement.  Like  sailors,  or  Irish  jig  dancers,  they  take 
their  pleasure  with  portentous  solemnity  and  strict 
attention  to  scmpulous  precision,  especially  in  the  tango. 
Ramon,  dancing  with  Diego  the  fenceman,  is  a model 
of  courtly  dignity,  and  when,  in  movements  that  recall 
the  stately  minuet,  they  gravely  bow  or  make  a leg, 
they  do  it  with  all  the  high  seriousness  of  artists.  Some- 
‘ “ Take  it  to  get  yourself  a drink.” 


282  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


times  in  bad  weather  they  dance,  half  a dozen  couples 
at  a time,  in  the  confined  and  murky  space  of  the  peon’s 
kitchen,  with  a small  naphtha  lamp  giving  just  enough 
light  to  let  one  distinguish  their  faces,  moving  in  the 
gloom,  and  to  enable  the  dancers  to  avoid  collision  with 
each  other  or  the  stove ; but  generally  their  revelries  take 
place  in  an  open  space  amongst  the  trees.  They  dance 
for  the  sheer  love  of  music  and  movement,  these  sons  of 
the  soil,  and  I never  watch  them  without  wishing  that 
the  Sunday  evenings  of  our  stall-fed  town-bred  citizens 
might  be  as  wholesomely  employed. 

It  is  on  a wet  Sunday  that  one  learns  to  appreciate  the 
native’s  talent  for  finding  continual  pleasure  in  such 
things,  and  to  admire  his  immunity  from  that  moral 
dyspepsia  which  the  over-civilised  call  ennui  or  “ nerves.” 

As  I have  said  elsewhere,  the  son  of  the  soil  hates 
getting  wet  as  much  as  a Chinaman,  or  a cat ; therefore, 
when  it  rains  on  a Sunday,  he  keeps  doggedly  under 
cover.  On  a wet  week-day  the  peon  who  is  on  day  wages 
and  not  of  the  regular  staff,  will  usually  knock  off  work, 
no  matter  what  his  job  or  how  badly  he  may  need  the 
pay,  and  wait  till  the  clouds  roll  by,  whiling  away  the 
hours  with  sleep  and  mate,  cooking  his  torta  frita  and 
playing  cards.  This  he  will  do,  if  needs  be,  for  days 
together,  and  from  his  proud  eminence  of  dryness  pity 
the  few  regular  men  whose  duty  takes  them  perforce 
afield ; that  is  to  say,  the  recorrer  peon  who  does  the  daily 
inspection  round  of  the  “ camp,”  and  the  house-peon,  who 
attends  to  the  horses,  milch  cows  and  rams.  The  other 
regular  staff  men  are  usually  put  to  indoor  work  in  wet 
weather,  husking  maize,  mending  harness  and  other 
gear.  The  domador  sits  all  day  long  in  the  doorway  of 
the  peon’s  kitchen,  making  lasso  ropes  and  halters  with 
strips  of  raw  cowhide,  or  fashioning  a saddle-cloth  from 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


283 


the  skin  of  a carpincho  (river  hog).  Even  on  Sunday 
this  picturesque,  sternly  conservative  old  Gaucho  is  for 
ever  busy  with  the  trappings  of  his  trade;  a taciturn 
fellow,  with  grizzly  hair  and  the  long  supple  body  of  a 
youth,  he  is  at  no  pains  to  conceal  his  scorn  for  all  trades 
and  traffics  that  concern  not  horseflesh,  and  for  those 
gringos  (including  me)  who  travel  in  motor-cars.  All 
the  other  peons  treat  the  domador  with  the  respect  due 
to  an  aristocratic  esprit  fort,  a dandy  and  an  oracle  (his 
claim  to  distinction  under  the  last  heading  being  based 
on  a great  gift  of  silence),  so  that  on  a wet  Sunday  they 
sit,  so  to  speak,  at  his  feet.  From  the  interior  of  the 
kitchen  comes  a faint  thrumming  of  guitars,  and  a mixed 
odour  of  asado  and  fritters.  Every  now  and  then  a sleepy- 
looking  figure  will  appear  framed  against  the  dark  portal 
of  the  peon’s  sleeping-room,  stretch  himself,  yawn,  and 
return  once  more  to  slumber.  Pedro,  of  course,  is  com- 
fortably established  in  the  kitchen,  regahng  Nicasia  with 
the  latest  spicy  stories  from  the  pulperia.  They  all  miss 
the  pulperia  on  a wet  Sunday,  the  gossip,  pelota  and  con- 
vivial cana,  especially  as  no  spirits  are  allowed  in  the 
peons’  quarters;  but  a man  must  be  unusually  fond  of 
his  liquor  to  face  a ride  in  the  rain,  and  the  number  of 
habitual  soakers  in  the  “ camp  ” is  small. 

I was  talking  to  Pedro  one  evening  on  the  subject  of 
drink  and  congratulating  him  on  his  virtuous  preference 
for  mate.  Pedro,  I have  reason  to  believe,  has  a weakness 
for  imparting  to  me  as  solemn  facts  all  sorts  of  pleasant 
and  edifying  fictions — pulling  my  leg,  in  fact.  Maybe 
that,  in  the  kindness  of  his  heart,  he  is  trying  to  supply 
me  with  interesting  copy.  At  all  events,  on  this  occasion 
he  informed  me  that  in  bygone  days  he  had  been  fond  of 
his  liquor,  but  that  he  was  completely  cured  of  it  by  the 
horrible  fate  of  his  cousin  Enrique.  Had  I heard  of  it? 


284  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


No  ? Well,  he  and  the  unfortunate  Enrique  were  then 
working  together — this  was  ten  years  ago — at  an  estancia 
up  Salto  way,  and  one  Sunday  they  had  gone  with  two 
other  companeros  to  a carrera.  After  winning  a good  deal 
of  money,  they  had  got  mixed  up  in  a pulperia  carouse 
with  a couple  of  pot-valiant  Porthenos,  and  there  was 
much  consumption  of  cafia.  At  midnight,  when  it  came 
to  going  home,  he,  Pedro,  refused  to  move,  and  slept 
till  dawn  under  the  friendly  stars.  But  Enrique  and  the 
other  two  men,  all  very  drunk,  insisted  on  mounting 
their  horses  and  starting  homewards.  The  cool  night 
air  soon  made  them  more  unsteady  than  ever,  and  in  a 
little  while  Enrique’s  horse  stumbled  at  a ditch  in  the 
roadway,  and  off  he  fell.  His  two  companeros  (gallant 
fellows  both),  but  extremely  unsteady  as  to  their  legs) 
managed  to  dismount,  but  all  their  efforts  to  put  Enrique 
into  the  saddle  again  were  of  no  avail.  “ What  is  to  be 
done?  ” says  companero  Mateo;  “ he  can't  get  up.”  To 
Marco,  drowsily  thinking  it  over,  there  comes  suddenly, 
in  the  confusion  of  his  mind’s  darkness,  a brilliant  inspira- 
tion, born  of  the  association  of  ideas,  wherein  man  became 
fatally  confused  with  sheep.  “ If  he  can’t  get  up,  nothing 
for  it,”  says  he,  “ but  to  cut  his  throat.”  Whereupon 
Mateo,  unconsciously  acting  upon  a suggestion  which 
accorded  with  everyday  usage  in  similar  cases,  cuts  poor 
Enrique’s  throat,  and  the  two  companeros,  feeling  that 
everything  possible  had  been  done  to  prevent  needless 
suffering,  struggled  home  to  bed. 

Eor  professional  reasons  I dechne  to  believe  most  of 
Pedro’s  local  yams,  but  the  Comisario,  to  whom  I ventured 
to  repeat  this  one,  assures  me  that  it  is  true. 


CHAPTER  XV 


TRIBES  ON  OUR  FRONTIERS 

Our  nearest  English  neighbours  live  between  three  and 
four  leagues  away,  so  that,  even  in  these  days  of  motor- 
cars, any  little  differences  that  may  arise  between  us  are 
seldom  the  result  of  excessive  familiarity.  As  a matter 
of  fact  there  is  not  as  much  sociability  between  the 
scattered  British  estancieros  in  this  country  as  a stranger 
might  be  led  to  expect ; what  he  does  notice  among  them 
is  their  remarkable  proclivity  to  commonplace,  and  often 
malicious,  gossip,  and  with  it  a tendency  to  make 
mountains  of  grievance  out  of  molehill  offences  and  to 
nurse  a trifling  grudge  until  it  becomes  a bitter  feud. 
These  amenities  of  estancia  life  are,  no  doubt,  directly  due 
to  narrowness  of  outlook,  to  lack  of  intellectual  stimulus 
and  distraction ; they  are  particularly  conspicuous  where 
people  have  become  infected  with  that  " camp-rot  ” of 
which  I have  already  spoken.  Hospitality  to  the  way- 
farer, spontaneous  and  open-handed,  is  the  unwritten 
law  and  proud  tradition  of  the  “ camp  ” ; every  stranger 
coming  within  the  estanciero’s  gates  may  count  upon 
receiving  courtesy  and  kindness  as  a matter  of  course. 
But  between  neighbours  the  exhibition  of  these  virtues 
is  curiously  infrequent;  indeed,  the  first  thing  which 
strikes  a new-comer  to  these  parts  is  the  pettily  malicious 
nature  of  the  local  gossip  and  the  incredible  triviality  of 
the  causes  of  the  disputes  which  disturb  and  divide 
estanciero  society.  The  same  good  hospitable  man  who 
will  open  his  doors  and,  if  need  be,  his  purse,  to  an 

285 


286  MEN,  :\IANNERS  AND  INIORALS 


uninvited  guest,  will  quarrel  with  his  nearest  neighbour 
for  years  over  the  veriest  wind-blown  straws  of  pulperia 
gossip,  and  thereafter  behave  with  all  the  obstinate 
fatuity  of  a spoiled  child.  And  woman,  especially  the 
imported  article  with  pretensions  to  social  superiority, 
often  appears  upon  the  scene  as  a very  prolific  sower  of 
strife  in  " camp  ” communities  which,  until  her  coming,  had 
lived  without  discord.  I have  known  one  bellicose  Irish 
woman,  lacking  children,  family  rows,  shopping,  or  other 
safety-valves,  to  divide  all  the  countryside  within  the 
radius  of  her  fierce  activity  into  hostile  camps,  and  keep 
them  at  loggerheads  for  years.  In  her  case,  strife,  after 
the  manner  of  Tipperary,  afforded  an  obvious  antidote  to 
homesickness  and  ennui  of  the  kind  that  kills.  But  I 
have  known  others,  even  women  bom  and  bred  in  the 
country,  who  generally  know  better,  to  sow  and  reap 
trouble  from  sheer  wantonness  of  naughtiness,  setting  all 
their  neighbourhood  by  the  ears  and  incidentally  bringing 
their  menfolk  into  contempt.  In  the  “ camp,”  as  elsewhere, 
many  a man  leams  to  appreciate  the  hoary  wisdom  of 
the  Preacher  who  said  that  it  is  better  to  dwell  alone 
upon  the  housetop  than  to  abide  with  a contentious  woman 
in  a large  room;  and  many  a wa5darer  leams  to  steer 
clear  of  local  habitations  where  Xantippe  rules  the  roost. 
” Camp-rot  ” in  women  sometimes  takes  the  form  of  a 
morbid  distemper  of  suspiciousness ; I have  known,  moi  qui 
vous  parle,  of  one  who,  after  dispensing  hearty  hospitality  to 
a stranger  for  several  days,  and  seeing  him  depart  in  peace, 
sent  a peon  riding  after  him  in  hot  haste  with  a note  from 
her  husband  politely  requesting  him  to  examine  his 
baggage  and  see  whether  he  had  not  inadvertently  taken 
some  unconsidered  trifles  which  she  had  suddenly  missed. 
Such  acute  systems  of  moral  dyspepsia  are  fortunately 
rare;  nevertheless  the  general  social  atmosphere  of  the 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


287 


“ camp  ” justifies  the  conclusion  that  for  the  good  of  their 
souls  and  neighbourly  amenities,  estancieros  and  their 
wives  should  take  a change  of  air  as  often  as  possible. 
There  is  such  a thing  as  gathering  too  much  moss,  not  to 
mention  cobwebs.  One  of  the  results  of  the  prickly 
porcupine  perversity  which  length  of  residence  in  the 
“ camp  ” may  breed  in  the  best  of  men,  is  that  co-operative 
initiative  and  united  counsels  amongst  estancieros  are 
extremely  rare,  a remark  which  applies  to  the  Argentine 
as  well  as  to  Uruguay. 

But  to  return  to  the  tribes  on  our  frontiers.  Our 
nearest  native  neighbour  is  the  pulpero,  a shrewd  and 
thrifty  Boniface  of  Italian  descent,  whose  house  of  enter- 
tainment and  refreshment  stands  a little  way  off  from  the 
high-road,  hard  by  the  shed  and  pens  of  the  Local,  where, 
weather  and  circumstances  permitting,  an  enterprising 
auctioneer  conducts  periodical  sales  of  sheep  and  cattle. 
The  parochial  business  done  at  these  ferias  somewhat 
resembles  that  of  the  fortunate  islanders  who  lived  by 
taking  in  each  other’s  washing.  The  man  who  has  more 
grass  than  cattle  buys  from  the  man  who  has  more  cattle 
than  grass.  Estancias,  bent  on  improving  the  classifica- 
tion and  quality  of  their  stock,  send  hither  their  unfits 
and  weaklings,  to  be  bought  by  speculating  rancheros  to 
fatten  for  consumo.  When  there  are  rumours  of  fluke  or 
foot-and-mouth  disease  in  our  vicinity,  business  becomes 
brisk  at  the  remaie.  Caveat  emptor  is  the  recognised  rule 
of  the  game ; the  vendor  who  can  successfully  dispossess 
himself  of  a " point  ” of  infected  sheep,  or  of  hopelessly 
barren  cows,  gains  the  respectful  admiration  of  his  peers. 
Muy  vivo,  they  call  him — a live  man — vitality  in  matters 
of  cattle-dealing  being  estimated  on  principles  similar  to 
those  which  obtain  in  horse-dealing  all  the  world  over. 
On  these  occasions,  the  spirit  of  competition  is  judiciously 


288  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

fortified  with  cana,  to  the  advantage  of  the  canny  and 
cool-headed. 

The  pidperia,  like  the  auctioneer,  treats  all  concerned 
with  genial  neutrality,  beaming  equally  on  the  just  and 
the  unjust.  Its  business  is  more  catholic  and  extensive 
than  might  be  inferred  from  a casual  inspection  of  the 
mouldy  and  meagre  stock  in  trade,  of  its  shelves  half 
filled  with  saddle-cloths  and  cheap  shirts,  biscuits  and 
tinned  food,  petrol  and  kerosene,  cooking  and  farm 
utensils,  soaps  and  scents,  and  a miscellaneous  jumble  of 
women’s  dress  materials  and  dusty  ullage.  These  things 
are  in  truth  no  more  than  outward  and  visible  signs  of 
the  pidperia  s commercial  activities;  ground-bait,  so  to 
speak,  or  the  gilt  upon  the  gingerbread.  The  peon  who 
comes  to  buy  a pair  of  canvas  shoes,  the  chacrero  who  has 
run  short  of  coffee,  the  estanciero  dropping  in  for  a tin  of 
naphtha,  not  only  support  the  pulpero  s essential  and  most 
profitable  business  of  selling  cana,  but  all  of  them  provide 
him  with  fragments  of  that  local  intelligence  upon  which 
his  success  as  a money-lender  and  trader  in  local  produce 
eventually  depends.  Not  that  he  despises  the  day  of 
small  things,  or  the  200  per  cent,  profit  which  he  exacts 
from  the  improvident  native  estanciero,  who  deals  with  him 
in  lordly  thriftless  style  rather  than  have  the  trouble  of 
keeping  his  own  store-room  and  filling  it  by  consignments 
from  Montevideo.  Far  from  it ; but  the  dry  goods 
business  is  very  often  a stalking-horse  rather  than  a 
hobby.  There  is  in  our  district  a Boniface  who  does  a 
lucrative  trade  in  sheepskins  and  hides,  bought  here  and 
there  from  all  the  neighbourhood,  and  rumour  has  it  that 
some  of  his  customers  supply  him  with  curiously  mixed 
lots  of  brands  and  earmarks. 

The  main  business  of  the  puiperia,  however,  is  to  provide 
a social  gathering-place,  a gossip  exchange  and  news- 


A GAME  OF  PELOTA 


[To  face  p.  288. 


■4 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


289 


distributing  centre  for  the  district,  a spot  to  which  the 
peon  may  repair  on  Sundays  and  holidays  for  recreation 
and  refreshment.  In  order  to  stimulate  his  craving  for 
the  latter,  mine  host  thoughtfully  provides  a pelota  court 
built  on  to  the  southern  wall  of  the  pulperia.  Here,  on 
warm  days,  a man  can  raise  a very  expensive  thirst ; but 
'tis  a good  game,  and  healthy,  and  far  less  conducive  to 
drunkenness  and  blood-letting  quarrels  than  racing  or 
gambling.^  The  modern  pulperia,  with  its  esiaminet  open 
to  all  comers,  affords  proof  that  either  the  number  of 
black  sheep  in  the  " camp  ” has  greatly  diminished  of  late 
years  or  that  the  shepherds  have  grown  wiser  in  dealing 
with  them.  For  in  the  old  days — and  not  so  long  ago, 
either — mine  host  of  the  wayside  inn  was  wont  to  serve 
liquor  to  his  customers  through  a barred  window,  his  door 
being  rigorously  closed  to  all  but  a few  intimates.  It 
may  be  that,  following  our  wartime  example,  the  distillers 
and  brewers  of  cana  have  taken  occasion  to  adulterate  and 
dilute  the  soul-warming  quality  of  the  stuff  the  vintners 
sell,  for  the  good  of  the  community  and  their  own  great 
profit.  Connoisseurs  of  the  juice  of  the  cane  certainly 
aver  that  it  is  not  what  it  used  to  be,  a fact  w'hich  may 
account  for  the  increased  sobriety  of  the  peon.  Be  this 
as  it  may,  it  is  certainly  true  that  in  these  parts  the  good 
old  days  of  light-hearted  lawlessness  and  playfully  pro- 
miscuous manslaughter  are  gradually  fading  into  the 
limbo  of  the  legendary. 

Let  me  not  be  misunderstood.  I do  not  mean  to  assert 
that  the  son  of  the  soil  is  becoming  either  a conscientious 
objector  to  violence  or  a total  abstainer.  Neither  would 
I have  you  believe  that  the  average  man’s  chance  of 

^ Nowadays  most  wayside  public-houses  have  pelota  grounds, 
and  so  popular  is  the  pastime  that  many  estancieros  have  come 
to  provide  courts  of  their  own  adjoining  the  peons’  quarters. 

U 


290  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


longevity  has  been  very  materially  improved  by  the  result 
of  increased  efficiency  or  zeal  on  the  part  of  legislation, 
education  or  police.  All  I mean  to  say  is  that  a variety 
of  causes — no  single  one  of  them  perhaps  very  definite  or 
direct — have  contributed  to  make  life  and  limb  a good 
deal  safer  than  they  were,  let  us  say,  in  the  days  when  the 
Falcon  came  a-cruising  up  the  Parana.  The  fencing  in 
of  all  the  country  conduced;  no  doubt,  in  the  first  place  to 
chasten  the  old-time  Gaucho’s  soaring  soul  and  to  instil 
into  his  mind  a momentary  respect  for  the  machinery  of 
law  and  order ; since  then  the  steady  infiltration  of  a new 
type  of  settler,  humble  tillers  of  the  soil  who  own  neither 
horses  nor  lethal  w’eapons,  has  given  him  furiously  to 
think;  and  finally  the  debasement  of  cana  has  played 
its  part  in  diminishing  his  opportunities  for  hot-blooded 
and  scapegrace  encounters.  The  old  domador,  and  Ruffo 
the  sheep-shearer,  hotspurs  both  of  the  old  regime, 
maintain  that  commercialism  and  the  love  of  money  have 
killed  the  soul  of  the  Gaucho,  the  spirit  of  gallant  adventure 
and  romance,  even  as  a Japanese  of  the  Satsuma  clan  will 
tell  you  that  trade  has  slain  bushido. 

But  despite  the  creeping  dullness  of  an  all-too-respectable 
world,  the  “ camp  ” still  retains  a good  deal  of  the  rollicking 
joie  de  vivre  which  culminates  in  the  joie  de  tuer,  and  a man 
may  yet  put  an  end  to  his  enemy  or  rival,  either  by  sudden 
brawl  or  premeditated  vengeance,  and  escape  the  penalty 
of  justice  as  easily  as  if  he  lived  in  Long  Island  or  Chicago 
The  existence  of  a self-respecting  man  must  necessarily 
be  fraught  with  peril,  in  a land  of  fierce  passions  and  swift 
revenges,  so  long  as  every  peon  goes  about  with  a jealous 
spitfire  conception  of  his  own  dignity  and  a lethal  weapon 
ready  to  enforce  it.  Out  of  the  “ camp,”  where  the  hours 
of  work  are  hard,  women  scarce,  and  politics  no  more  than 
the  rumble  of  a distant  drum,  vendettas  and  tragedies 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


291 


are  perhaps  not  more  frequent  to-day  than  in  any  other 
country  where  the  value  of  the  law  for  protective  purposes 
depends  upon  the  individual  who  happens  to  administer 
it ; but  in  the  small  towns,  where  gambling  dens,  “ China  ” 
girls,  politicians  and  newspapers  combine  to  lure  them 
into  paths  of  strife,  there  is  quite  sufficient  liveliness  and 
hazard  of  adventure  to  satisfy  any  gentleman  in  search 
of  excitement.  Dolores,  our  nearest  town,  for  instance, 
until  quite  lately  kept  up  a very  imposing  average  of 
citizens  slain  by  night  and  day  in  her  streets,  either  in  the 
settlement  of  private  feuds  or  the  adjustment  of  political 
differences.  Not  long  ago  there  were  three  newspapers 
in  the  town,  all  very  frank  and  free  in  their  comments  on 
men  and  affairs,  a fact  which  tended  to  excite  and  promote 
frequent  breaches  of  the  peace.  But  since  the  editor  of 
the  “ White  ” paper  shot  and  killed  one  of  the  two  “ Red  ” 
editors  in  the  main  street  and  (being  of  the  “ Out  ” party) 
went  to  gaol  for  it,  public  opinion  reflected  only  by  one 
surviving  journal  has  lost  its  sauce  piquante  and  the 
undertakers’  business  in  Dolores  is  not  what  it  used  to  be 
On  the  other  side  of  the  River  Maciel,  our  nearest 
neighbour  is  Don  Feliz,  the  Teniente  Alcalde.  I have 
never  seen  this  official’s  functions  and  responsibilities  as 
magistrate,  registrar  or  shrieve  definitely  laid  down  in  any 
public  document.  In  practice,  his  activities  appear  to 
vary  inversely  with  the  square  of  the  distance  involved, 
and  his  actions  to  be  largely  based  on  his  own  past  and 
present  relations  with  the  parties.  A worthy  and  a 
pleasant  fellow  is  the  Teniente,  who  asks  nothing  better 
than  to  sit  for  hours  in  the  shade  of  his  vine-covered  porch 
and  to  entertain  you  with  mate  and  small  talk;  but  his 
conception  of  the  duties  of  his  position  is  necessarily 
affected  by  the  needs  of  a rapidly  increasing  family.  It 
is  also  complicated  by  the  fact  that,  in  many  cases,  he  is 


292  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


unable  to  predict  to  which  side  will  incline  the  sympathies 
of  those  higher  authorities  upon  whose  knees  lie  the 
ultimate  secrets  of  justice — to  wdt,  the  Juez  de  Paz  and  the 
Jefe  Politico  at  Mercedes. 

In  matters  of  elemental  simplicity,  such  as  sheep- 
stealing or  fence-cutting,  where  (as  I have  already  ex- 
plained) the  law  of  the  “ camp  ” is  explicit  and  generally 
effective,  the  position  of  the  Comisario  de  Policia  and  of 
the  Teniente  is  simple  and  the  ends  of  justice  are  sufficiently 
well  met;  but  not  so  where  a man  is  done  to  sudden 
death  in  a love-affair  or  gambling  row.  For  in  this  country, 
and  indeed  throughout  South  America,  persons  with 
homicidal  tendencies  are  encouraged  by  the  fact  that  they 
incur  no  risk  of  capital  punishment,  and  that,  as  the 
authorities  usually  object  to  spending  money  on  feeding 
prisoners,  they  have,  if  convicted,  a good  chance  of  being 
speedily  released.  On  the  other  hand,  the  sentimental 
leniency  of  the  law,  as  well  as  the  uncertainty  of  its  appli- 
cation in  many  districts,  naturally  tends  to  perpetuate 
blood  feuds  and  family  vendettas.  Even  in  cases  of  theft 
or  malicious  damage  to  property,  the  injured  party 
frequently  prefers  either  to  take  the  law  into  his  own 
hands,  or  to  persuade  the  police  Comisario  to  deal 
summarily  with  the  offender  by  giving  him  a sound 
thrashing  and  a warning,  rather  than  to  have  recourse  to 
the  devious  and  expensive  processes  of  judicial  procedure. 

Justice  in  the  “ camp,”  hke  kissing,  goes  often  by  favour. 
Therefore  most  estancieros,  unless  they  happen  to  be  of 
the  muy  vivo  type  and  confident  of  the  protection  of 
friends  at  court,  fight  very  shy  of  litigation,  only  invoking 
the  assistance  of  the  Juez  de  Paz  as  a last  resource.  Against 
the  minor  alarms  and  incursions  of  evil-doers  they  generally 
contrive  to  protect  themselves,  tant  bien  que  mat,  by 
ecuring  the  active  good-will  of  the  local  Comisario  in  return 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


293 


for  a monthly  retaining  fee.  Subsidised  in  this  way  by 
half  a dozen  estancias,  the  Comisario  becomes  a semi- 
private functionary  with  a regular  beat,  on  which,  for  his 
own  sake,  he  keeps  a sharp  eye  open  for  suspicious  or 
disorderly  characters.  The  system  works  well  in  districts 
like  that  of  Mercedes,  where  the  Jefe  Politico  happens  to 
be  a “ White  ” man  and  public  opinion  definitely  on  the 
side  of  law  and  order.  But  there  are  districts  in  which 
the  fine  flower  of  corrupt  politics  may  blossom  in  the 
person  of  a Juez  whose  sympathies  and  interests  lie  with 
the  dissolute  and  disreputable  elements  of  society,  the  sort 
of  political  swashbuckler  who  does  not  mind  being  seen 
gambling  with  a crowd  of  loafers  and  miscreants  at  some 
low-class  piilperia,  and  who  probably  gets  the  lion’s  share 
of  its  cagnotte.  Under  such  auspices  an  honest  or  zealous 
Comisario  is  rare,  but  if  such  there  be,  he  must  needs  go 
warily  to  keep  his  job.  With  wandering  outlaws  or  notori- 
ous criminals  he  can  deal  promptly,  but  where  local 
offenders  are  concerned,  he  has  to  reckon  with  the  possi- 
bility that  they  may  be  his  Honour’s  good  and  faithful 
friends,  and  with  the  further  fact  that  the  rogue  and  rascal 
element  in  the  “ camp  ” is  by  no  means  exclusively  confined 
to  the  peon  class.  I know  a hard-headed  forty-year-in- 
the-country  Scotchman  whose  motto  is  " Count  your 
stock  and  watch  your  fences.  If  your  neighbour  is  honest 
you  won’t  want  law,  and  if  he  isn’t  the  law  won’t  help 
you.” 

Cases  have  often  occurred  (and  not  so  long  ago  either) 
of  Police  Comisarios  coming  directly  to  their  place  of 
power  from  gaol,  a cynical  and  thrifty  Juez  declaring  that 
in  thus  appointing  them  he  not  only  saved  money  for  the 
State  {I’Etat  c’est  moi)  but  secured  the  services  of  local 
experts  in  criminology.  Some  of  these  experiments  were 
quite  successful,  I believe,  the  converted  sinners  becoming 


294  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


a terror  to  evil-doers ; but  there  was  one,  at  all  events,  who 
fell  short  of  one’s  ideal  of  a policeman  in  that  he  habitually 
acted  as  a receiver  of  goods,  systematically  stolen  from 
estancias  other  than  those  which  paid  him  to  be  honest. 
On  one  occasion  a neighbour  of  ours  happening  to  catch  one 
of  his  peons  red-handed  with  a cartload  of  stolen  property 
on  the  way  to  the  Comisario’s  shanty,  took  the  case  in 
wrath  to  Mercedes  and  appealed  for  justice.  As  he  dis- 
covered, it  would  have  been  cheaper  to  ask  the  Comisario 
how  many  cartloads  would  satisfy  him,  for  justice,  stern 
and  unwinking,  compelled  him  to  come  and  give  evidence 
at  Mercedes  at  least  a dozen  times,  and  eventually  fined 
him  eighty  dollars  for  defamation  of  character. 

The  Juez  de  Paz  of  our  district  is  a somewhat  remarkable, 
but  by  no  means  typical,  specimen  of  his  class.  He 
combines  in  a very  curious  manner  (he  has  been  to  England 
and  France)  surface  polish  of  a travelled  citizen  of  the 
world  with  the  rugged  sans-gene  of  the  true  hijo  del  pais  ; 
and  a certain  jaunty  sociability  with  sudden  spasms  of 
professional  dignity.  He  dresses,  not  after  the  manner 
of  the  “camp,”  but  rather  after  the  fashion  of  a houlevardier , 
bowler  and  all;  yet  when  he  visits  us,  either  for  business 
purposes  or  pleasure,  he  carries  no  kit — not  even  a razor 
or  tooth-brush — sleeps  in  his  boots,  and  has  never  been 
known  to  ask  for  a bath.  His  rive  eternel  (he  is  fond  of 
airing  his  French)  is  to  make  enough  money  to  be  able  to 
live  as  a private  gentleman  in  Paris;  he  would  far  rather 
talk  of  that  gay  city,  and  his  own  amazing  adventures  of 
gallantry  with  Aspasia,  Delilah  and  Lalage,  than  discuss 
with  you  the  politics  and  prospects  of  the  Banda  Oriental. 
One  must  be  stony-hearted  not  to  sympathise  with  a man, 
politician  though  he  be,  whose  job  is  in  Mercedes  and 
whose  heart  lies  in  Montmartre.  After  all,  this  Lothario 
in  the  wilderness  is  the  natural  product  of  an  artificial 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


295 


state  of  society,  differing  only  from  his  compeers  by  a 
ribald  frankness  of  lubricity,  which,  like  his  clothes,  he 
acquired  by  the  banks  of  the  Seine.  Pedro,  Ramon 
and  the  peon  fraternity  generally  regard  him  and  his 
affectations  with  unconcealed  contempt. 

Our  two  nearest  esianciero  neighbours  are  a native  and 
a Basque;  small  estancias  both,  of  about  four  thousand 
acres.  Of  good  sturdy  peasant  stock  is  the  Basque,  hard 
bitten  and  thrifty ; he  began  life,  they  say,  as  a chacrero  in 
a small  way,  and  is  now  believed  to  be  worth  half  a million 
dollars.  A brother  and  his  old  mother  share  his  untidy, 
unpretentious  house ; they  keep  no  indoor  servants  (mother 
does  the  washing),  mind  their  own  business,  and  have 
evidently  no  desire  to  cut  a figure  in  any  kind  of  society. 
The  Oriental,  his  neighbour,  is  a prodigal  son,  who,  after 
eating  the  fatted  calf,  has  gambled  away  the  cow  and  the 
rest  of  his  patrimony  at  the  roulette  wheel ; his  estancia  is 
heavily  mortgaged,  they  say,  and  foreclosure  only  a matter 
of  time.  His  house  is  as  untidy  as  an  Irish  farm,  his  fences 
all  awry,  and  the  air  of  the  place  is  heavy  with  melancholy 
forebodings  of  impending  dissolution.  Yet  Don  Antonio 
keeps  a stiff  upper  lip,  entertains  his  friends  with  as  near 
an  approach  to  the  grand  manner  as  larder  and  cellar  will 
permit,  and  talks  cheenully  of  importing  a prize  pedigree 
bull  next  season.  Before  long,  no  doubt,  the  thrifty 
Basque  will  absorb  his  foohsh  neighbour’s  estate  and  the 
prodigal’s  place  will  know  him  no  more. 

When  last  I saw  Don  Antonio  the  countryside  was 
slowly  recovering  from  a severe  visitation  of  locusts,  and 
he  himself  was  suffering,  with  philosophic  fortitude,  the 
visitation  of  an  official  locust  Inspector.  A curious 
specimen  of  the  bureaucracy,  this  Inspector,  like  most  of 
his  species  of  Italian  origin,  a pale  and  pimply  youth  with 
a pince-nez,  very  tight  trousers  and  a fanciful  taste  in  neck- 


296  ]\IEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


ties.  A benevolent  government  appoints  these  function- 
aries for  the  ostensible  purpose  of  advising  and  assisting 
landowners  in  the  scientific  destruction  of  locusts ; certifi- 
cates are  issued  to  those  who  have  duly  carried  out  the 
ordinances  ad  hoc.  So  far  as  practical  results  are  con- 
cerned. the  activities  of  these  Inspectors  appear  to  aggra- 
vate rather  than  relieve  the  estancieros’hmdens  of  affliction. 
Don  Antonio’s  visitant,  who  frankly  confessed  that  he 
had  never  seen  a locust  in  the  flesh,  possessed  nevertheless 
a businesslike  conception  of  the  market  value  of  official 
certificates,  remarkable  in  one  so  young,  a marked  dislike 
of  any  kind  of  physical  exertion,  and  considerable  skill 
at  truco  and  poker.  He  spent  a fortnight  under  Don 
Antonio’s  dilapidated  but  hospitable  roof,  and  borrowed 
twenty  dollars  from  the  major-domo  before  moving  on  to 
pastures  new. 

Further  beyond  our  frontiers,  the  nearer  places  recog- 
nisable by  their  scattered  groups  of  trees  clear-cut  against 
the  skyline,  other  estancias  great  and  small  stretch  out 
in  unbroken  continuity  up  to,  and  beyond,  the  borders  of 
Brazil.  Several  of  the  larger  British-owmed  estates  here, 
as  in  the  Argentine,  are  the  property  of  private  companies ; 
more  than  one  in  Soriano  has  been  recognised  by  the 
Government  as  a “ model  ” establishment,  and  therefore 
exempted  from  the  double  land-tax  imposed  on  absentee 
landowners.  These,  naturally,  give  themselves  airs — 
especially  those  which  make  a business  of  breeding  pedigree 
cattle — letting  their  light  so  shine  before  men  that  the 
glare  is  occasionally  painful.  In  the  case  of  native-owned 
properties,  the  wealth  or  prosperity  of  the  padron  is  seldom 
indicated  by  the  size  or  dignity  of  his  estancia  house. 
Many  rich  “ Orientals  ” own  estates  in  different  parts  of 
the  country,  which  they  leave  to  be  managed  by  a trust- 
worthy gerente  and  only  visit  occasionally ; as  a rule,  such 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


297 


places  are  regarded  as  money-making  propositions  pure 
and  simple,  attractive  to  the  native  mind  because  of  the 
speculative  element  in  their  business,  and  rarely  under- 
taken upon  a modern  scientific  basis  or  with  large  expendi- 
ture of  capital.  Therefore  their  quintas  and  human 
habitations  are  usually  lacking  in  dignity  and  the  con- 
veniences which  make  for  comfort ; they  impress  the 
stranger  within  their  gates  with  a sense  of  impermanence, 
not  theirs  is  the  abiding  and  comfortable  restfulness  which 
comes  from  fixity  of  tenure  in  ancestral  acres. 

This  sense  of  impermanence  of  a vague  and  pleasantly 
aimless  unrest,  grips  you  in  these  regions  of  the  Pampas. 
Your  true  son  of  the  soil,  always  something  of  a dreamer, 
is  bred  with  a gentle  wanderlust  in  his  bones ; for  him  the 
abiding  city  has  no  attractions,  the  gathering  of  moss  no 
charms.  And  many  an  Englishman  has  succumbed  to  the 
call  of  the  wild  and  become  an  incurable  wanderer,  a 
genial  horseback  tramp.  The  “ poor  white  ” nomad  is 
a familiar  type  in  Uruguay;  sometimes  you  will  come 
across  him  doing  odd  jobs  of  usefulness  in  the  unmistakable 
manner  of  the  naval  handyman,  much  addicted  to  con- 
templative fishing  and  tales  of  the  sea ; and  again  you  will 
find  him  teaching  English  in  an  estanciero’s  family,  with 
remnants  of  the  Oxford  manner  visible  in  moments  of 
expansion  beneath  his  acquired  virtuosity  a I’espagnole. 

One  I have  kno\vn,  who  travels  the  length  and  breadth 
of  the  land,  with  no  possessions  other  than  a horse,  a spare 
shirt,  a tooth-brush  and  a pipe ; a very  dignified  and  esti- 
mable man,  his  mind  well-stocked  with  folk-lore  and  legend, 
who  will  ride  up  to  the  quinta  at  sunset,  coming  quite 
naturally  out  of  the  Ewigkeit,  unsaddle  and  turn  loose  his 
horse,  and  take  up  his  abode  with  you,  as  a matter  of 
course,  for  so  long  as  it  may  please  him  to  do  so.  When 
the  spirit  moveth  him,  he  moves;  and  when  he  goes,  as 


298  ^lEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


casually  as  he  came,  you  feel  that  you  have  been  privileged 
to  entertain  a very  wise  type  of  super-tramp,  an  Autolycus 
with  the  heart  of  a child,  A useless  life,  you  say  ? Quien 
sabe  ? A few  years  hence,  and  the  record  of  its  utihties 
wall  be  much  the  same  as  that  of  yours  or  mine.  And  is  it 
nothing  that  a man  should  be  able  to  live  in  this  struggling 
twentieth  century  in  perfect  freedom  of  body  and  soul, 
taking  no  thought  for  the  morrow ; that,  having  given  no 
hostages  to  outrageous  Fortune,  he  should  not  fear  her 
slings  and  arrows  any  more  than  the  breath  of  the  pampero? 
Old  Barrow’s  name  is  a household  word  from  the  Brazilian 
border  to  Paraguay,  and  many  a man’s  slender  stock  of 
wisdom  has  been  increased  from  his  rich  garnered  store. 
He  wants  nothing  in  this  world  that  money  can  buy, 
except  tobacco,  and  this  he  is  prepared  to  earn,  if  you  so 
wish  it,  by  posting  the  estancia’s  books,  or,  if  needs  be,  by 
other  clerkly  work.  But  he  is  equally  prepared  to  allow 
you  to  “ lend  ” him  the  money — entre  amigos. 

At  a remate,  or  feria,  where  people  come  together  from 
all  the  estancias  of  the  neighbourhood,  you  will  generally 
find  one  or  two  of  these  cheerful  philosophers.  The 
atmosphere  of  a remate  naturally  attracts  them,  with  its 
gargantuan  feasting,  its  merry  meetings  of  old  friends, 
its  bustle  and  gossip  and  music  of  guitars.  There  are 
features  about  an  estancia  stock-and-plant  auction  that 
remind  one  of  Ireland;  the  jumble  sale  feeling  that  per- 
meates the  proceedings,  combined  with  a very  shrewd 
perception  of  the  main  chance  by  all  concerned;  the 
happy-go-lucky  nature  of  the  proceedings;  their  utter 
disregard  of  time  and  copious  consumption  of  cana;  the 
strange  prehistoric  vehicles  in  which  family  parties  drive 
to  the  scene  from  miles  around ; gay  blades  on  horseback 
and  demure  senoritas  in  their  Sunday  best.  A remate,  as 
a rule,  is  advertised  to  commence  at  lo  a.m.,  but  the 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


299 


crowd  considers  that  it  is  doing  very  well  if  it  rolls  up  by 
midday,  and  the  time  passes  pleasantly,  till  lunch  is  served 
at  one,  with  mate  and  cana,  gossip,  flirtation,  and  intermin- 
able talk.  No  Barmecide  affair  is  the  meal  when  served ; 
to  the  gringo  in  their  midst  the  cubic  capacity  of  these 
“ camp-bred  ” stomachs  is  nothing  short  of  miraculous. 
But  the  rematador  knows  that  a buyer  bids  generously  when 
well  filled  with  meat  and  drink,  and  as  its  quantity  is  more 
notable  than  its  quality  the  cost  of  this  his  ground-bait  is 
money  well  spent. 

From  April  to  September,  when  the  killing  of  partridges 
and  other  game  is  lawful,  estancieros  of  sporting  proclivities 
organise  shooting  picnics,  whereat  friends  and  neighboxurs 
foregather.  Here,  again,  the  nature  of  the  accommodation 
and  the  hospitality  dispensed  remind  one  of  the  rough- 
and-ready,  happy-go-lucky  ways  to  which  one  is  accus- 
tomed in  the  wilder  parts  of  Ireland — men  and  women 
take  things  just  as  they  come,  and  the  best  is  as  the  worst. 
These  shooting  parties  are  chiefly  confined  to  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  element.  Occasionally  a Basque  or  Itahan  neigh- 
bour will  join  in  and  do  his  bit,  but  as  a rule  these  people 
only  keep  a gun  for  desultory  pot-hunting  or  for  the 
destruction  of  vermin,  and  prefer  to  shoot  their  game 
sitting.  Your  pukka  “ Oriental  ” does  not  believe  in 
wasting  expensive  cartridges  on  birds  in  flight,  and  as 
the  native  partridge  is  generally  plentiful  and  a foolishly 
noisy  and  conspicuous  runner  in  the  open,  the  pot-hunter 
can  make  a good  bag  without  much  trouble.  Ducks  also 
he  can  secure  by  stalking  their  feeding-grounds  in  the 
reed-girt  river  beds  or  narrow  lagunas.  I knew  one 
sporting  young  native  who  owned  a pair  of  Purdeys  and 
boasted  that  he  never  missed  a bird;  he  once  joined  a 
shooting-party  of  ours  but  firmly  declined  to  fire  at  any- 
thing on  the  wing  for  fear  of  spoiling  his  established 


300  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 

reputation  as  a crack  shot.  The  same  young  man  told 
me  that  he  hoped  some  day  to  see  some  fox-hunting  in 
England;  he  thought  he  could  show  our  old-fashioned 
huntsmen  a thing  or  two.  He  would  take  his  revolver 
and  wait  for  the  fox  at  likely  places. 

The  so-called  partridge  of  the  Pampas  is,  in  fact,  no 
partridge,  but  a species  of  francolin  {Nothura  maculosa). 
Even  allowing  for  the  scarcity  of  population  over  vast 
tracts  of  country,  and  the  lack  of  transport  from  these 
districts  to  the  town  markets,  it  is  a mystery  how  this 
very  edible  bird  continues  to  exist  in  such  numbers  as  he 
does.  Eor  the  species  is  less  prolific  than  our  partridge, 
and  seems  to  be  completely  lacking  in  the  most  elementary 
instincts  of  self-preservation.  When  disturbed  they  will 
run,  uttering  a shrill  piping  note,  and  allow  the  gun  to 
come  within  easy  range  before  taking  to  flight,  which 
seldom  carries  them  more  than  three  or  four  hundred 
yards.  After  being  flushed  for  the  second  time  they 
refuse  to  rise  again,  hiding  in  the  long  grass  until  pushed 
out  or  even  seized  by  the  dog.  A common  device  of  the 
natives  is  to  ride  them  down  and  catch  them,  thus  crouch- 
ing in  the  grass,  with  a noose  at  the  end  of  a long  pole. 
In  times  of  drought  they  perish,  like  all  the  beasts  of  the 
field,  for  lack  of  food ; at  all  seasons,  they  have  countless 
enemies  to  fear — hawks,  owls  and  other  birds  of  prey, 
foxes,  weasels  and  skunks — they  survive,  nevertheless, 
in  great  numbers,  and  apparently  acquire  nothing  of  new 
craft  or  cunning  from  experience  and  a world  full  of 
perils  of  change.  I have  seen  a party  of  five  guns,  with- 
out dogs,  kill  over  a hundred  brace  in  a morning,  and  only 
stop  shooting  because  the  bag  was  already  more  than 
could  be  consumed  in  the  neighbourhood.  In  the  vicinity 
of  the  railway,  whence  game  can  be  sent  in  cool  weather 
to  the  Montevideo  market,  birds  are  generally  scarcer; 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


301 


but  even  near  the  capital  you  meet  Italians  and  French 
sportsmen  returning  by  train  from  their  Sunday  outings 
with  a pointer  and  a big  game-bag  full  of  partridges. 

There  is  another  bird,  larger,  more  succulent  eating 
and  even  more  stupid  than  Nothura  maculosa,  which  was 
once  common  in  many  parts  of  Uruguay,  but  which  now 
is  only  to  be  found  in  the  districts  where -thick  reed-beds 
{paja  bravo)  or  large  tracts  of  maize  and  oats  afford  good 
cover.  This  is  the  martinetta  [Rhynchotus  rufescus), 
generally  called  a partridge  in  the  Chaco  and  other  parts 
of  the  Argentine;  a big  lumbering  bird  about  the  size, 
and  something  of  the  shape,  of  a hen  pheasant.  In  the 
wilderness  of  the  Chaco  this  toothsome  fowl  may  yet  avert 
its  doom,  but  it  is  quite  incapable  of  escaping  extinction 
in  any  region  where  man  pursues  it  with  a keen-nosed 
dog,  for  its  only  resource  after  being  flushed  is  to  lie  perdu 
in  the  nearest  cover. 

Sporting  estancieros  have  tried  more  than  once  to 
introduce  pheasants  into  this  country,  but  without  suc- 
cess. After  one  season  there  remained  no  sign  of  them. 
Why  one  imported  bird  should  increase  and  multiply, 
while  another  is  unable  to  survive,  is  a mystery;  but 
game  birds  are  particularly  capricious  in  the  matter  of 
acclimatisation.  It  is  certainly  not  for  lack  of  cover 
that  the  pheasant  perishes  in  these  parts — there  may  be 
less  of  it  than  in  England,  but  there  is  more  than  in  China, 
his  original  habitat.  Nor  can  it  be  because  of  foxes  and 
other  bird-eating  beasts,  for  the  pheasant  is  a tree-roosting 
bird  and  has  thus  an  advantage  over  the  partridge.  The 
climate  also  is  more  like  that  of  his  Oriental  birthplace 
than  that  of  Europe,  and  there  is  food  in  plenty  of  the 
kind  that  pheasants  need.  Yet  he  refuses  to  live  here, 
just  as  the  American  “ Bob  Winte  ” quail  refuses  to  live 
in  China,  and  the  Bamboo  partridge — as  hardy  a bird  as 


302  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


ever  broke  shell — refuses  to  live  in  England.  The  EngUsh 
sparrow,  of  comparatively  recent  importation,  is  making 
himself  very  much  at  home  here,  and,  Uke  a good  Anglo- 
Saxon  colonist,  rapidly  ousting  the  pacifist  aborigine, 
the  dainty  little  crested  sparrow  of  Uruguay.  The  first 
Enghsh  sparrows  were  brought  to  Montevideo,  they  say, 
by  an  Italian  emigrant  as  pets;  as  the  Customs  insisted 
on  levying  duty  upon  them,  he  opened  the  cage  and  let 
them  fly. 

There  is  good  snipe  shooting  throughout  the  winter  in 
the  “ camp,”  wherever  low-banked  canadas  make  marsh 
lands  in  the  little  valleys.  When  flushed,  the  birds 
usually  fly  circhng  round  and  about  their  feeding-grounds, 
making  their  curious  drumming  sound  as  they  come  up 
against  the  wind.  In  addition  to  the  migratory  birds, 
there  are  a number  of  snipe  that  breed  in  the  country; 
two  or  three  species  of  duck  are  also  permanent  residents.^ 

Wild-fowl  shooting  is  good,  wherever  there  is  marshy 
groimd  with  reed-beds,  throughout  the  winter,  and  very 
pleasant  sport  it  is,  in  the  bright  sunshine  of  a June  day 
with  the  air  crisp  and  nipping  after  the  morning  frost, 
and  the  south  wind  blowing  fresh  and  clean  from  the 
Pole.  Teal  and  spoonbill  are  the  commonest  species,  and 
the  maUard  is  fairly  plentiful.  The  only  drawback  to 
the  sportsman’s  pleasure  in  the  chase  lies  in  the  lack  of 
consumers  for  his  game.  The  peons,  ever  faithful  to 
their  mutton  and  beef,  have  little  or  no  use  for  wild-fowl, 
though  they  will  condescend  to  partridges.  As  to  hares, 
with  which  the  " camp  ” abounds,  they  regard  them  as  unfit 

^ The  local-breeding  snipe  rear  two  or  more  broods  each  year. 
They  commence  nesting  as  early  as  the  end  of  July  (equivalent 
to  January  with  us);  I have  shot  egg-bearing  females  early  in 
August.  The  teru-teru  (lapwing)  begin  pairing  towards  the  end 
of  June  (midwinter)  and  are  well  forward  with  their  nesting  by 
the  first  week  in  August. 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


303 


for  human  food.  Hares  must  be  shot,  or  coursed  with 
hounds  (a  favourite  sport  at  many  estancias)  because  of 
the  damage  they  do  to  the  crops  and  to  young  trees; 
nevertheless,  it  goes  against  the  grain  to  kill  a dozen 
splendid  big  fellows  in  a morning  and  leave  their  carcases 
to  be  devoured  of  ants  and  -peludos  and  carrion-eating 
birds.  With  the  fine  enthusiasm  of  a gringo,  how  often 
have  I tramped  home  with  a hare  and  visions  of  soup  or 
savoury  meat,  only  to  find  my  quarry  next  day  ignomini- 
ously  reposing  in  the  ash-pit,  and  to  hear  Nicasia  (or 
any  other  cook)  declare  that  the  cats  had  got  at  it  in  the 
night.  On  the  rare  occasions  when,  by  sheer  pertinacity, 
I succeeded  in  getting  the  hare  as  far  as  the  kitchen,  the 
resultant  soup  was  a very  effective  remonstrance  against 
any  further  attempts  to  reform  the  dietary  of  the  sons  of 
the  soil. 

Old  residents  will  tell  you  that  there  were  no  hares  in 
Uruguay  thirty  years  ago,  that  they  were  introduced 
as  an  experiment  by  a German  named  Lahusen,  and 
multiplied  with  great  rapidity,  but  that  none  have  so  far 
made  their  way  to  the  north  of  the  Rio  Negro.  For  these 
statements  I vouch  not;  but  from  personal  observation 
I should  say  that  only  the  country’s  periodical  droughts 
have  prevented  the  hare  becoming  in  Uruguay  a pest 
and  a scourge  like  the  rabbit  in  Australia.  Hares  need 
green  food ; even  after  a comparatively  short  seca,  I have 
known  them  to  become  so  weak  that  the  estancia  dogs 
could  outrun  them  in  the  open,  but  after  two  or  three 
days’  rain  and  sprouting  green  grass  they  rapidly  recovered 
condition. 

The  four-footed  wild  tribes  on  our  frontiers  are  an 
interesting,  but  generally  elusive,  lot.  The  Pampas  deer 
of  Hudson’s  early  days  have  disappeared  since  the  intro- 
duction of  wire  fencing,  but  wherever  there  is  timber  or 


304  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


thick  cover  on  the  river  banks,  the  amphibious  carpincho 
{Hydrochoerus  capyraha)  may  be  seen  or  heard,  if  you  have 
woodcraft  and  patience.  A strangely  uncouth  beast  is 
this  river  hog ; he  looks  as  if  he  had  started  life  with  the 
intention  of  becoming  a deer  and  then  given  it  up  and 
taken  to  the  water  and  rooting.  Very  quick  of  hearing 
and  fleet  of  foot,  at  the  first  alarm  he  makes  straight  for 
the  water,  where  he  remains  with  the  tip  of  his  snout 
periscoping  from  safe  cover.  All  you  learn  of  his  presence 
is  a scurrying  in  the  undergrowth  and  a splash. 

The  lagunas  and  deep  pools  of  the  river  teem  with  animal 
and  bird  life.  Otters  [loho)  are  fairly  plentiful,  in  spite  of 
the  value  of  their  skins  in  the  Montevideo  market,  for 
trappers  are  scarce  in  the  “ camp  ” (thank  goodness  !),  and 
shooting  at  them  in  the  water  is  useless  killing,  for  the 
body  sinks.  Along  the  untimbered  canadas,  where  the 
stream  runs  between  high  shelving  banks  of  loess  and  there 
is  good  grass  in  the  open,  there  are  colonies  of  nutrias 
{Myopotanius  coypu),hViSy  beaver  families,  harmless  small 
deer  that  make  their  homes  by  the  river’s  edge — warrens 
(with  bolt-holes  under  water) — and  at  even  play  like 
rabbits  on  the  greensward.  Happy  little  beasts  these, 
and  until  recent  years  generally  unmolested;  but  now, 
since  the  number  of  fur-bearing  beasts  has  become  much 
less  than  the  number  of  fur-wearing  women,  and  because 
coats  of  nutria  skins  are  advertised  in  the  autumn 
catalogues  of  the  Brompton  Road  at  figures  sufficient  to 
stimulate  the  cupidity  of  our  pulperos,  and  even  of  our 
peons,  the  slapng  of  these  innocents  has  become  a regular 
business  in  many  parts  of  the  country. 

The  native  method  of  killing  nutrias  is  singularly  lack- 
ing in  business  foresight  and  finesse ; it  amounts  practi- 
cally to  direct  action,  conceived  in  hasty  greed  and  con- 
ducted in  ignorance,  of  the  kind  which  slays  the  goose 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


305 


with  the  golden  eggs.  Instead  of  trapping  the  full-grown 
animals  in  the  winter  season,  when  their  fur  is  long  and  the 
dams  have  weaned  their  young,  the  skin-hunter  of  these 
regions  will  dig  out  an  entire  colony  of  nutrias  with  dogs 
and  spades  whenever  and  wherever  he  can  do  so,  extermin- 
ating the  lot,  regardless  of  age  and  sex,  and  probably 
spoiling  half  their  skins  in  the  process.  The  nutria  at 
bay  in  his  warren  is  a game  fighter  and  a match  for  most 
terriers ; many  a good  dog  has  been  badly  mauled  in  these 
subterranean  fights,  and  some  have  never  returned  to 
tell  the  tale.  The  female  nutria  carries  her  jmung  on  her 
back,  where  Nature,  all  provident,  has  also  placed  her 
teats. 

The  skunk,  like  most  of  our  fauna,  suffered  much  diminu- 
tion of  numbers  during  the  drought  of  1916  throughout 
the  Department  of  Soriano,  so  that  to-day  the  estancui 
sees  and  smells  a good  deal  less  than  it  used  to  do  of  this 
interesting  tribe  on  its  frontiers.  Also  the  fur-hunter  is 
on  his  trail  far  more  actively  than  before  the  war,  so 
that  his  midnight  raids  on  our  ducks  and  poultry,  once 
frequent,  have  become  rare  visitations;  one  may  ride 
half  a day  without  catching  a glimpse  of  his  bushy  tail 
waving  like  a banner  as  he  shuffles  between  the  tufts  of 
espartillo,  or  digs  for  the  isoka  grub.  A strangely  fearless 
and  attractive  little  beast  is  the  skunk  of  South  America. 
Science,  thinking  only  of  the  offensive  nature  of  his 
defensive  weapon,  has  named  him  suffocans,  and  it 
may  be  that  his  fearlessness  is  merely  the  courage  of  his 
concoction,  that,  like  some  people  we  know,  he  expects 
to  get  his  own  way  through  sheer  offensiveness.  Never- 
theless, I have  knoum  of  a skunk  kept  as  a pet  by  a lady, 
that  always  slept  on  her  bed,  had  the  run  of  the  house, 
and  allowed  itself  to  be  freely  handled,  without  ever 

emitting  the  slightest  hint  of  its  pestiferous  secretion, 
x 


306  j\IEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


and  from  what  I have  seen  of  him  at  large,  I think  his 
courage  comes,  not  from  his  gall  bladder  but  from  the 
heart,  and  that  despite  the  odour  of  unpleasantness  which 
cUngs  to  his  name,  ’tis  a genial  and  lovable  little  beast. 
When  you  come  upon  one  suddenly  in  the  “ camp,”  either 
rooting  for  food  or  asleep  in  the  long  grass,  he  displays 
no  panic  signs  of  fear;  on  the  contrary,  he  looks  you 
straight  in  the  face,  as  man  to  man,  and  if  j^ou  and  your 
dogs  molest  him  not,  trots  off  unconcernedly  about  his 
own  business.  But  if  you  annoy  or  pursue  him,  he  will 
turn  and  advance  upon  you,  coming  straight  at  you  with 
little  nervous  jumps  and  stamping  angrily  with  his  fore- 
feet, his  tail  stiff  with  menace.  Most  dogs,  knowing  from 
bitter  experience  the  blinding  power  of  the  abominable 
spray  which  he  can  eject  to  a range  of  seven  or  eight  feet, 
keep  a respectable  distance  from  that  waving  tail ; those 
whose  valour  is  greater  than  their  discretion  may  cover 
themselves  with  glory,  but  not  all  the  perfumes  of  Arabia 
can  then  make  them  fit  to  mix  in  polite  society  for  several 
days.  The  skin  of  the  South  American  skunk  is  not  so 
dark  and  glossy  as  that  of  the  northern  continent,  and 
in  the  summer  months  he  often  presents  a skimpy  and 
disreputable  pelt,  but  a skin’s  a skin  for  all  that  in  the 
eyes  of  those  who  collect  them  for  the  Montevideo  market. 

Foxes  are  plentiful  and  do  a good  deal  of  damage  in 
the  lambing  season.  They  have  their  habitation  amongst 
the  holes  of  the  rocks  down  by  the  river,  and  are  seldom 
seen  by  day.  Hares,  partridges,  molitos  and  other 
groundlings  provide  them  wdth  fair  sustenance ; but  they 
seldom  invade  our  quinta  because,  w'ith  the  exception 
of  the  ducks,  all  our  poultry — even  the  turkeys — roost 
out  of  reach  in  the  high  branches  of  the  omhu  trees. 
Ducks,  poor  things,  are  encompassed  by  many  and  great 
dangers  in  the  ” camp  ” especially  in  the  days  of  their  youth, 


IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 


307 


for  a night-errant  skunk  will  cheerfully  slay  half  a dozen 
of  them  in  one  silent  session,  and  the  comodreja  (opossum), 
who  loves  to  frequent  the  haunts  of  men  and  likes  to 
make  his  home  somewhere  in  the  caves,  is  just  as  blood- 
thirsty a killer.  I have  noticed  that  our  mother  ducks 
shepherd  their  broods  at  night  close  to  the  spot  where 
the  dogs  are  accustomed  to  sleep,  hard  by  the  peons’ 
quarters. 

The  birds  of  prey  are  a formidable  crew — eagles  and 
harriers,  kites  and  owls,  carrion-feeding  carancho  {Poly- 
borus  tharus)  and  murdering  cuervos  {Cathartes  aura). 
The  bird  of  prey  that  hunts  and  kills  its  quarry  clean, 
one  may  denounce  but  must  admire;  for,  say  what  you 
will,  he  is  a very  graceful  and  efficient  product  of  the 
sorry  scheme  which  condemns  us  all  to  eat  or  be  eaten, 
and  in  fulfilling  his  destiny  he  contrives  to  be  a thing 
of  beauty,  which  is  more  than  all  of  us  can  say.  On  the 
principle  that  somebody  must  do  the  world’s  dirty  work, 
the  caranchosand  cuervos  may  doubtless  be  justified,  even 
as  a rag-picker  or  a scavenger  may  claim  to  be  a very 
worthy  member  of  society;  but  their  appearance  is 
offensive,  and  if  every  man’s  hand  is  against  them,  they 
have  only  themselves  to  thank,  for  they  combine  the 
profession  of  scavenging  with  that  of  cold-blooded  murder- 
ing of  the  defenceless.  One  of  the  carancho’ s favourite 
devices  is  to  pick  the  eyes  out  of  a sick  or  wounded  sheep. 
In  the  lambing  season  they  do  great  execution  in  this 
way;  mother  sheep  being  thus  disposed  of,  her  lamb 
becomes  an  easy  prey.  And  the  reputation  of  the  cuervo 
is  as  evil  as  his  vulture-like  appearance. 

There  are  neither  crows  nor  rooks  in  all  this  country, 
which,  when  you  come  to  think  of  it,  is  a strange  omission 
in  a land  teeming  with  grubs  and  ticks  and  bugs.  If  it 
were  not  for  a very  wholesome  fear  of  disturbing  the 


308  MEN,  MANNERS  AND  MORALS 


established  balance  of  things,  I should  like  to  let  loose  a 
few  pairs  of  English  crows  on  the  ploughed  lands  of  the 
“camp  ” and  watch  the  results.  Here,  when  the  plough  is 
at  work,  gulls  come  in  great  flocks  to  follow  it,  and  gorge 
themselves  to  a state  of  helpless  and  undignified  repletion 
on  the  juicy  isoka  grub.  Here  again  is  a mystery,  for 
these  birds  come  as  if  summoned  by  wireless,  when  the 
plough's  banquet  is  spread  for  them,  even  as  storks 
come  suddenly  from  the  blue  to  devour  locusts  in  Egypt. 
Who  carries  the  glad  tidings  to  the  river  and  the  sea, 
and  how  is  it  done?  And  what  would  happen  to  our 
ploughed  land  if  no  sea-birds  came  to  thin  the  ranks  of 
the  isoka  ? I have  seen  a flock  of  several  hundreds  of 
gulls  stuffed  so  full  after  an  hour’s  following  of  a ten- 
blade  motor  plough  that  they  could  scarcely  move  and 
stood  stock  still,  like  aldermen  after  a feast,  rolling  beady 
eyes  of  plethoric  contentment. 

Of  the  many  and  pleasant  feathered  tribes  on  our 
frontier,  song  birds  and  others,  it  would  take  too  long 
to  tell,  and  Hudson  has  done  it  well  enough.  Their 
melodious  voices  and  cheerful  presence  are  not  the  least 
of  the  joys  of  estancia  life.  Of  those  that  frequent  the 
quinta  our  most  familiar  friends  are  the  oven-bird,  the 
cardinal,  the  bien-te-veo  and  the  little  burrowing  owl 
{Lechusa).  Never  was  any  bird  so  chronically  busy  as 
the  oven-bird;  mud-house  building  seems  to  find  him 
occupation  and  recreation  all  the  year  round.  Natives 
will  tell  you,  and  believe,  that  the  “ hornero  ” (to  give 
him  his  Spanish  name)  is  a strict  Sabbatarian  and  resteth 
the  seventh  day.  On  the  first  Sunday  that  I tested  the 
truth  of  this  pretty  legend  there  seemed  to  be  something 
in  it,  for  no  work  was  done  to  any  of  the  three  nests 
selected  for  observation ; but  a week  later  all  three 
couples  were  busily  adding  new  layers  of  soft  mud  to  their 


IN  SOUTH  MIERICA 


309 


homes,  the  sabbath  and  the  presence  of  an  Anglican 
Bishop  visitant  notwithstanding.  The  story  probably 
arose  from  the  fact  that  each  fresh  layer  of  mud  is  allowed 
to  dry  before  a new  layer  is  added. 

Very  brilliant  of  plumage  is  the  bien-te-veo — one  of  the 
very  noisiest  members  of  the  Tyrannidce  family — and 
very  closely  his  incessant  call,  like  that  of  the  teru-teru, 
becomes  associated  in  one’s  mind  with  the  daily  life  of  the 
“ camp.”  Grateful,  too,  is  the  murmur  of  wood-pigeons 
at  dawn  in  the  eucalyptus  trees.  We  have  four  species 
of  pigeons.  Palonia  grande,  the  biggest,  affords  good 
flight  shooting  towards  sunset,  when  the  birds  make  for 
their  roosting-places  along  the  timbered  course  of  the 
river ; 'tis  a fowl  of  excellent  flavour.  The  smaller  species, 
varying  from  the  size  of  an  Antwerp  carrier  to  something 
little  larger  than  a robin,  are  to  be  found  in  vast  numbers 
wherever  cultivation  provides  them  with  food;  when 
the  thistle  seed  ripens  they  descend  upon  it  in  such  great 
flocks  that  one  wonders  wherewithal  so  many  crops  can 
be  filled  at  other  seasons.  In  the  quinta  enclosure  there 
are  generally  one  or  two  humming-birds  hovering  around 
the  belle  de  nuit  ; great  green  woodpeckers  are  always 
busy  among  the  paraisos,  and  there  are  vagabond  bands 
of  green  parrots,  swift-moving  jewels  of  emerald  and  gold, 
that  know  to  a nicety  the  range  of  a gun  and  seem  to 
love  marauding  mischief  for  its  own  sake.  Amongst  the 
birds  there  is  always  something  doing  and  life  is  never 
dull.  As  I sit  at  evening  in  the  verandah  that  looks 
tow'ards  the  sunset,  and  the  curving  wooded  line  of  the 
San  Salvador,  the  swelling  vespers  in  the  birds’  dormitories 
on  every  side  make  very  grateful,  restful  music,  and  as 
the  last  twitterings  sink  to  silence  in  the  dusk,  I give 
thanks  for  these,  the  happiest  of  all  the  tribes  on  our 
frontiers. 


INDEX 


Acevedo,  Dr.  Varela,  at  Ver- 
sailles, 194,  196—97;  and  the 
position  of  woman  in  Uruguay, 
199-200 
Agassiz,  4 

Agriculture,  attempts  to  develop, 
in  Uruguay,  237-39;  despised 
by  South  Americans,  246 ; 
necessity  for,  in  Uruguay,  255 
Ailments,  native  cures  for,  133-34 
Albuquerque,  16 

Allies’  Black  List,  the,  38,  66, 98, 99 
Alto  Parana,  the,  164 
Alvar  Nuiiez,  119 
American  Bank-note  Company  of 
New  York,  147 

American  Chamber  of  Commerce, 
61 

Anglo-Argentinos,  258 
Anglo-Orientals,  258 
Antonio,  Don,  295 
Apparecida,  82,  85,  87 
Araguaya,  the  ship,  8,  23,  26,  32, 
33.  36,  38 

Argentine,  the,  route  to,  13,  14 ; 
neutraUty  of,  37;  politics  in, 
63-65,  102;  Republic  cen- 

tenary, 65-67,  103-8 ; rivalry 
with  Brazil,  66;  migratory 
labourers,  69;  social  life  in, 
72,180;  cattle  of  the,  85 ; cost 
of  land  in,  88;  resources  of, 
95,  96;  attitude  towards  the 
Allies,  99-100 ; Presidential 
election  1916,  102-3;  value  of 
the  silver  peso,  115-16 ; colonists 
of,  129-30;  relations  with 
Paraguay,  146,  155,  162-63; 
coffee  trade  of,  152 ; relations 
between  the  sexes  in,  204—5 ; 
presidency  of  Irigoyen,  223; 
need  for  roads  in,  239;  laws 
concerning  the  child,  258 ; com- 
pany-owned estancias,  296-97 
Argentine  Central  Railway,  169 
Argentine  North-Eastern  ifoiilway, 
169,  170 

Army,  the  BraziUan,  83 


Artigas,  252-53 

Asun5ion,  routes  to,  117-18,  140; 
the  Italian  tongue  in,  125; 
politics  in,  1 4 1-42  ; the  Customs 
wharf,  142-43 ; House  of  Con- 
gress, 142-43,  145 ; CalleMonte- 
\-ideo,  144-45 ; H6tel  St.  Pierre, 
144,  148-50;  the  Biblioteca 

Nacional,  145 ; the  Club,  145- 
46;  Florida  Street,  145;  anti- 
German  feeling  in,  149-50; 
Villa  Morra,  151;  the  mate 
trade  of,  153;  overland  route 
to  Montevideo,  163-64,  166-84 
Auctions  of  stock,  287-88 
Australians  in  the  Argentine,  129 
Avenida  Palace  Hotel,  Lisbon,  19 
A von,  the  ship,  8,  2 1 

Bahia,  32,  36;  shipments  to 
Germany,  37-38 ; health  of,  55 
Ballymena,  128,  129 
Bamboo  hedges,  85,  86 

partridge,  the,  301-2 

Banda  Oriental,  parties  of  the, 

1 90- 1 ; use  of  the  term  “ China,” 
205  note  * 

Barbados,  39 

Barber,  the,  on  shipboard,  25-27 
Barcelona,  218 
Barrett,  Mr.  John,  64 
Basque,  the,  in  South  Africa,  267, 

295.  299 

Battle,  Senor,  109,  184,  186,  189, 

191- 93.  219,  272 
Benita,  maid,  250-51,  267 
Bermejo  river,  the,  119,  140 
Bema,  the,  121,  123,  125,  127,  165 
Bemadino,  Lake  San,  149 
Berne,  old,  arcades  of,  233 
Bemstorff,  112 

Biarritz,  59 

Bird  hie  in  the  South  American 
” camp,”  259 

Birds  of  the  Chaco,  138-40 ; game 
birds  of  South  America,  299- 
302 ; birds  of  prey,  307-8 ; 
birds  of  song,  308-9 


3” 


312 


INDEX 


Black  List.  See  Allies. 

Black  Prince,  the,  loi 
" Blancos,”  the,  in  Montevideo, 
190,  191-93.  271-73,  291 
Bolivia,  14,  70;  cattle  trade,  84; 

currency  of,  12 1 
Bolshevik,  15 
Bombilla,  the,  263-64 
Bombs,  German,  on  ships,  38-39 
Boy  Scout  Movement  in  Monte- 
video, 203  and  note 
Bradford,  trade  with  Germany, 

150-51 

Brazil,  characteristics,  14,  15,  16 ; 
coast  of,  35 ; relations  with 
Germany,  37-38 ; prosperous 
condition  of  Rio,  44 ; Negro 
influence  in,  50;  politics  in, 
63,  64 ; declaration  of  war,  65  ; 
rivalry  with  the  Argentine,  66 ; 
influence  of  Italian  strain,  68- 
71;  the  social  code,  72-77; 
methods  of  Dr.  Vital,  77-79; 
railwaj^s  of,  79-83 ; cattle  trade 
of,  83-87 ; insect  pests,  84,  85 ; 
war  increase  in  expenditure, 
88;  and  Paraguay,  146,  155, 
163;  anti-German  feeling,  150; 
yerba  of,  152;  Sao  Paulo  Rail- 
way, 169;  social  life,  180; 
estancias  of,  252 

Brazil  Land,  Cattle  and  Packing 
Company,  84 

Brazileros,  characteristics,  love  of 
scent,  36-37 ; the  craving  for 
stimulants,  53-54 ; Negro  strain, 
201 

Brazilian  Dreadnought,  42 
Brazil-Indian  blood  in  Portugal, 
eSect,  17 

Brete,  use  of  the,  237  and  note 
Briand,  M.,  186 

Britanica  (La),  244,  252 ; stock 
at,  256-57;  food  at,  260 
British-owmed  estancias,  285-87, 
296 

Brooklyn  Bridge,  189 
Brum,  Senor,  186,  192 
Bryce,  Lord,  3 

Buckle,  Mr.  (of  The  Times),  59 
Buddhist  laws,  227,  276 
Buenos  Aires,  Pan-American  Con- 
gress in,  47,  60, 62  ; anti-German 
sentiment  in,  47-48 ; centenary 
celebrations,  65-67,  106—8 ; ex- 
peditions from,  91—92 ; position 
and  resources,  93-96;  people 
of,  96-97,  218-19;  enemy 


trading  with,  97-99 ; sympathy 
wnth  the  Allies,  99;  Plaza  San 
Martin,  104  ; naming  of  streets 
in,  105-6;  beggars  of,  107; 
the  Jockey  Club,  107,  108,  109, 
no;  Count  Luxburg,  108; 
Plaza  Hotel,  108,  112;  neu- 
trality of  the  Press  in,  1 13-14; 
Florida,  114;  Harrod’s,  114; 
women  of,  114-15,  216;  cost 
of  living  in,  115;  route  to 
Parand,  117-18;  the  social 
code,  122,  203;  the  railways, 
163-64;  dogs  of,  171-72  : trade 
with  Mercedes,  176-77;  archi- 
tecture in,  223 ; Bolshevism  in, 
229;  the  opera,  230;  picture- 
palaces  of,  232 
Bullrich  & Co.,  in 
Burberry  in  Montevideo,  233 
Butantan,  Institute  at,  77-79 

Caciques,  the,  15 

Cadeau  de  Noel  performance,  113 
Calderon,  Garcia,  162 
California,  preponderance  of  men 
over  women,  158;  Chinese  head- 
gear,  270 

Calle,  the,  of  Uruguay,  235 
“ Camp-rot,”  169,  285-87 
Cana,  consumption  of,  159-60, 
283, 284,  288-89 
Canada,  wheat  belt  in,  167 
Canadian  towns,  characteristics 
of,  228 

Canary  Islands,  immigrants  from, 

255 

Cancer,  tropic  of,  30 

Canton,  143 

Cape  Verde  Islands,  30 

Caracu  stock  for  breeding,  84, 

85 

Caribbean  Sea,  pestilence  of  the, 
55 

Carlyle  on  Francia,  quoted,  157-58 
Carrasco,  197,  226 
Carreras,  273 

Caruso  in  Montevideo,  230 

Catalan,  218,  229 

Cattle  dealing,  methods,  287-88 

ranching  in  Brazil,  83-87 

Central  do  Brazil,  79 
Chaco,  Italians  of,  125;  life  in, 
127-35;  government  of,  135- 
36;  police  of,  136-37 ; birds  of, 
138-40,  301;  wilderness  of, 

142,  165,  166 

Chaco  Austral,  the,  119,  165 


INDEX 


313 


Chacreros,  types,  255-56 
" Ch6,”  use  of  the  term,  124 
Cheese  of  Petropolis,  58 
Chicago,  possibiUties  of,  83-84 ; 
society  in,  216 

Children  in  South  Africa,  classes 
of  offspring,  160,  180-81 ; cult 
of  the  child,  179-80,  199-200; 
irregular  offspring,  right  to  in- 
herit, 180-81 

Chile,  politics  of,  63,  64,  65 ; state 
of  society  in,  120 
China  and  Paraguay,  similarities, 
1 18;  coolie  labour,  153;  con- 
ditions in,  187 ; the  Consulates, 
224;  game  in,  301-2 
China,  Central,  feudal  customs, 
281 

China,  Southern,  horseshoe  grave- 
yards, 77 

China,  Young,  219;  constitution, 
194,  196 

" Chinas,”  meaning  of  the  term, 
205  note  1,  269-70,  291 
Chinese,  habits  of  the,  265 ; head- 
gear  in  California,  270  ; treat- 
ment of  animals,  276 
Church,  the,  influence  in  South 
Africa,  135,  280-81 
Chusenji,  Tokyo,  56 
Cinema,  the,  52-53,  134-35.  232, 
277-78 

C16menceau,  M.,  3 
Colon,  55,  172 

Colon  Theatre,  Buenos  Aires,  113 
Colonists  of  the  Argentine,  129, 
130 

“ Colorados,”  the,  in  Montevideo, 
190,  191-93.  271-73 
Company-owned  estancias,  296- 
97 

Concordia,  93,  125,  166,  169-72 
Conscript  Fathers,  the,  105,  145, 

147 

Constantinople,  217 
Contrabandists  of  the  Paraguay, 

136-38 

Cordova  railway  line,  170 
Corrientes,  119,  123,  125-27,  164, 
166,  169;  dogs  of,  171—72 
Corrientes  mat6  mill,  153 
Costa  Rica,  215 
Cruz,  Dr.,  55 
Cuchillo,  the,  268 
Cuervo,  the,  307 

Dancing  in  the  " camp,”  281-82 
Darrow,  298 


Darwin  on  the  scarcity  of  trees,  167 
Decauville  line,  the,  127,  128,  132 
Deer,  pampas,  303 
Delane,  Mr.  (of  The  Times),  59 
Democratic  Control,  Union  of, 

150-51 

Diaz,  President,  157,  192 
Diego,  the  fenceman,  281 
Dobrixhoffer,  Father,  History  of 
the  Abipones,  118 
Dogs  of  Corrientes,  171-72 
Dolores,  8,  246,  291 
Domador,  the,  282-83 
Douro,  peasantry  of  the,  15 
Drabble,  Senor,  no 
“ Dragon,”  use  of  the  term,  212, 
213 

Dublin,  insurrection  of  June  1916, 

lOO-I 

El  Gordo,  143-44,  ^4® 
Encamagion,  163 
English,  attitude  of  South 
America  towards  the,  60 ; in- 
fluence in  the  Argentine,  97; 
types  in  South  America,  251- 
52 ; estancieros,  252-53 
Enrique,  fate  of,  283-84 
Entre  Rios  Railway,  170 
Espartillo  grass,  195,  243,  254 
Estancia,  the,  route  to,  234-37: 
methods  on  the,  237-38;  need 
for  better  means  of  transport, 
238-40  ; a journey  to  the,  242- 
44;  the  house,  244 ; the  quinta, 
245-47 ; the  outbuildings,  247 ; 
the  peons’  quarters,  247-48; 
the  potreros,  260  and  note 
Estancias,  average  size,  252-53 ; 
value  of  land,  253-54;  the 
picture-palaces,  277-78 ; the 
Church  in  the  “ camp,”  280-81 ; 
dancing  in  the,  281-82  ; justice  in 
the  " camp,”  292-93 ; " model  ” 
establishments,  296;  company- 
owned,  296-97 ; sense  of  im- 
permanence, 297-98 
Estancieros,  politics,  272-73;  rela- 
tions between  neighbours,  285- 
87 ; sporting  opportunities, 
299-301 

Eu,  Comte  d’,  58 

Excelsior  at  the  Colon,  Buenos 
Aires,  113 

Falcon,  290 
Falkland,  150 
Farquahar,  80-81 


314 


INDEX 


Feliz,  Don,  the  Teniente  Alcalde, 
291-92 

Ferias,  287,  298-99 
Ferro-Carril  Central  Railway,  181- 

83 

Finns  in  the  Argentine,  129 
Firearms,  carrying  of,  forbidden, 
268 

Florida,  EngUsh  element,  97 ; road 
from  Montevideo,  235 
Ford  cars,  247 
Formosa,  125,  140 
Forty-eight-hour  week,  the,  222 
Foxes  in  South  America,  306-7 
Francia,  120,  157-58 
Franco,  Juan,  59 
Fray  Bentos,  172 
Free-trading  on  ships,  25-26 
French  influence  in  South  America, 
97,  129,  150 

French  Legation,  Lisbon,  19,  21 
Frontain,  Senhor,  82 
Funchal,  27—30 

Funerals  in  South  America,  280—81 
Funes,  Dean,  on  the  Guaran/ 
Indians,  quoted,  156—57,  159 
Fur  trade  in  South  America,  304-7 

Gallegos,  the,  15 
Gama,  Vasco  da,  16 
Gambling,  public,  prevalence  of, 
108-9,  197,  267-68;  in  Monte- 
video, 228-29 

Game  in  South  America,  299-302 
Garapata,  the,  84 
Gardens,  estancia,  245-46 
Gaucho,  the,  160,  224 ; methods, 
237-38;  treatment  of  horses, 
■2-1 

George,  Mr.  Lloyd,  186-87,  189; 

and  Dr.  Acevedo,  194,  196 
Gerente,  Senor,  266-67 
German  influence  in  Brazil,  37-38 ; 
stock  in  Petropolis,  56-57;  in 
Sao  Paulo,  70 ; influence  at 
Santos,  89;  element  in  the 
Argentine,  129;  evidences  in 
Asuncion,  151-52 
German  ships  disabled  by  their 
crews,  27 

Germany,  declaration  of  war  on 
Portugal,  22 ; anti-German  feel- 
ing in  Rio,  61-62  ; in  the  Argen- 
tine, 97 ; maintenance  of  trade 
vuth  South  America,  97-98 ; 
pro-German  element  in  Cor- 
rientes,  126-27;  anti-German 
feeling  in  Asun9ion,  149-50 


Gobemador  Civil,  methods  at  the, 
19-21 

Graham,  Mr.  Cunninghame,  on 
South  America,  quoted,  2,  118, 
142,  158 

Grass,  overgrowth  of,  195 
Grasshopper  pest,  246 
Greece,  civilization  in.  208 
Greeks  in  the  Argentine,  129 
Guarany  Indians,  under  the 
Jesuits,  119,  120,  157-58;  de- 
scendants of  the,  121,  125,  153, 
154;  Dean  Funes  on  the,  156- 
57;  influence  on  the  South 
American  character,  263 
Guaratinguetd,  86,  87 
Guarujd,  80,  91-92 
Gulls,  308 

Hamburg-Amerika  Line,  the,  48 
Hardy  of  Ballj'mena,  127,  128 
Hare,  disregard  of  the,  in  South 
America,  302-3 
Hendaye,  19 

“ Hidden  Hand,”  the,  151 
Holland,  laws  governing  public 
morals  in,  203 
Horse-breaking,  274-75 
Horses,  the  peon's  treatment  of, 
273-76 

Houses,  estancia,  description, 

244-45 

Hudson,  cited,  2,  93,  303,  308 
Humboldt,  4 

Humming-birds  of  Petropolis.  58 

Illiterates,  proportion  of,  276-77 
Inchcape,  Lord,  8 
Indefatigable,  the,  101 
Indian  natives  of  the  Argentine, 
130,  132-33;  in  Paraguay,  155- 
56 ; blood,  fusion  with  Spanish, 
171 ; mate  drinking,  263 
” Industrial  Paraguaya,”  the,  152 
Interbreeding.influence  on  Society, 

44-45 

Invincible,  the,  101 
Irala,  120 

Ireland,  comparison  with  South 
America,  66,  185,  188,  237,  298- 
99 ; Sinn  Fein  in  SouthAmerica, 
100-1 ; national  ideals,  154 
Irigoyen,  President,  policy,  66, 
100,  103-4,  113,  219,  223 
Irish  Monthly  of  Buenos  Aires,  101 
Irun,  19 

Isabella,  Princess,  58 
Isoka  grub,  the,  308 


INDEX 


315 


Italian  opera  in  South  America, 
230-31 

Italians  in  South  America,  in- 
fluence in  Rio,  44-45 : in  Sao 
Paulo,  68,  69,  71 : influence  of 
the  Italian  tongue,  125 ; in  the 
Argentine,  129,  130;  settlers 
in  Paraguay,  163;  agricultur- 
ists, 246,  255,  256;  owners  of 
pulperias,  267 ; sportsmen,  299- 

301 

Japan,  civilisation  in, 208 ; bushido, 
290 

Japan,  seas  of,  28 
Jefe  Politico,  292,  293 
Jesuits,  influence  in  S3,o  Paulo,  72 ; 
mission  towns  of  the,  119,  142, 
153,  160,  223;  rule  in  Greater 
^ Paraguay,  157-58 
" Jesuits’  Tea,”  263 
Jew,  the,  in  Russia,  268 
Jockey  Club,  Buenos  Aires,  107-9 ; 
no 

Johannesburg,  Jews  of,  96 
Jornal  de  Comercio,  the,  58,  59 
Juez  de  Paz,  visits  of  the,  266; 
corrupt  practices.  292-95 

Kalgan,  221 

Kalmuks,  265 

Kensington,  154 

Kitchener,  Lord,  10 1 

Knight,  Cruise  of  the  Falcon,  2,  130 

Kohler,  Julius,  56 

Korea,  155  note  1 

Koreans,  habits,  265 

La  Familia  Gutierrez,  208,  212 
Lahusen,  the  hare  introduced  by, 

303 

Lamport  & Holt  Line,  boats  of  the, 
39 

Lancaster,  James,  35-6 
Land  in  Uruguay,  value,  253-54 
Las  Palmas,  the  factory  at,  127- 
35.  136;  birds,  138-40 
Lasso,  use  of  the,  237 
Laundry  work  in  the  Argentine, 
116 

Law,  “ camp,”  292 
“ League  to  Enforce  Peace  ” of 
President  Wilson,  63 
Lenin,  189 

Leopoldina  Railway,  Rio,  43 
Levantine  Jews,  trading  conces- 
sions to,  99 

Libraries,  ships’,  criticised,  5-8 
Liebknecht,  189 


Ligapelos  Alliades,  the,  46-7 
Lisbon,  15,  16,  19,  22;  revolution 
of  June  1915,  21-22;  the 

Avenida,  23 ; market,  55 
Living,  war  cost  of,  88-89 
Locust  inspectors,  295-96 

pest,  the,  255-56,  295 

London,  Jews  of,  96;  enemy 
trading,  98 

Lopez,  wars  of,  120,  121,  155-56, 
158,  192 

Los  Angeles,  277 

Lotteries,  public,  53-54,  198-99 

Lusitania,  sinking  of  the,  48,  99; 

feehng  in  Rio,  60-1 
Lutheran  Church,  rules  of  the,  205 
Luxburg, Count, 48,65,98, 108,  in 

McAdoo,  Mr.,  in  Rio,  60,  61,  62 
Macdonald,  Ramsay,  28 
Maciel  River,  234,  242,  252,  259 
Mackenzie,  Mr.  Murdo,  84 
Madeira,  23,  25-30 
Mahan,  Admiral,  on  the  Monroe 
doctrine,  63 
Mamelucos,  the,  69,  70 
Manana,  cult  of,  262—63,  267-68 
Manchester,  enemy  trading  with, 

97-99.  150.  151 

Mangoes  of  Pernambuco,  36 
Manila,  mangoes  of,  36 
Manoel,  King,  21 
Mario,  Don,  266—67 
Marne,  150 
Maronas,  196 

Marriage,  disregard  for,  in  South 
America,  269 
Martinetta,  the,  301 
Mate  bowls,  263-65 

drinking,  246-47,  260-65 

industry  in  Paraguay,  152 

Matto  Grosso,  83 
Maurice  of  Nassau,  35 
Meat  trade  in  Brazil,  83-87; 
amount  consumed  by  the  peon, 
260-62 

Medina  del  Campo,  19 
" Menage  k trois,”  205 
Mendoza,  120 

Mercedes,  camp  town,  8,  166,  240, 
241;  dogs  of,  171—72;  journey 
to,  172-73;  Hotel  de  Paris, 
173-74.  178;  description  of  the 
town,  174—76;  the  Rowing  Club, 
176;  food  supply,  176-77;  the 
Rambla,  177;  railway  to  Monte- 
video, 181-83;  amusement  in, 
269-70  ; camp  justice  in,  293-95 


316 


INDEX 


Mexico,  state  of  society  in,  120; 
Indian  race  in,  155;  rule  of 
Diaz,  157 

Mexico,  Southern,  215 
Mihanovitch  Steamer  line,  164 
Minas,  Geraes,  83 
Mitre,  Senor,  113 
Molito,  the,  259  and  note 
Monroe  doctrine,  maintenance  of 
the,  62,  63,  64,  65 
Montaigne,  Lord  of,  on  “ com- 
pany,” quoted,  1-2 
Monte  Carlo  system,  197,  229 
Montenegrins  in  the  Argentine, 
129 

Montes  as  landmarks,  242-43 
Montevideo,  expeditions  from,  91 ; 
characteristics,  94,  185,  188-89; 
gambling  in,  108-9;  cost  of 
living,  115-16;  the  social  code 
in,  122 ; overland  route  from 
Asun5ion,  166-84;  <iogs  of, 
172;  trade  with  Mercedes,  176- 
77,  178;  rail  from  Mercedes, 
181-84;  new  House  of 

Congress,  187-88;  Plaza  Inde- 
pendencia,  189;  Plaza  Matriz, 
189;  the  Cathedral, 190,225  MOie; 
the  Representacion  Nacional, 
190 ; politics,  190-93,  200-1 ; 
position  of  woman  in,  201 ; 
relations  between  the  sexes  in, 
202 ; Boy  Scout  movement  in, 
203  and  note  ; architecture,  217, 
223 ; police,  220 ; tramway 
service,  220 ; railway  service, 
220-21 ; the  siesta,  222;  British 
Legation  and  Consulate,  224- 
25;  the  Campo  Santo,  225-26; 
the  British  cemetery,  226;  the 
Cerro,  226;  Villa  Dolores,  227- 
28 ; the  Zoological  Gardens, 
227-28 ; Parque  Hotel  or  Casino 
Municipal,  228;  the  Parque 
Urbano,  228;  Pocitos,  228; 
music  and  drama  in,  229-32 ; 
the  " Solis,”  230 ; picture-palaces 
in,  232 ; roads  from,  235 ; 
telephone  arrangements,  240- 
41 ; markets,  255  ; condemnation 
of  mate  drinking,  264 ; the 
Government  at,  272 ; food 
supply,  300;  English  sparrows 
in,  302;  fur  market,  304,  306-7 
Moorish  style  of  architecture  in 
South  America,  217 
Moors,  influence  on  the  South 
American  character,  262-63 


Momy  freres,  30 
Morongaba,  84 

Mosquito,  the  fever-bearing,  55; 

of  the  Chaco,  138 
Moulin  Rouge,  32 
Mourning  in  South  America,  social 
customs  governing,  210 
Muller,  Senhor  Lauro,  61 
Murphy,  251 
Murray,  Father,  10 1 
Mussulman  code,  the,  205 

Nacion,  the,  113 
Natal,  coal  from,  169 
Nations,  League  of,  principles, 
194 

Nazear,  Dr.,  55 

Negro,  the,  assimilation  of,  in  the 
Brazilian  population,  50,  68; 
element  in  Sho  Paulo,  68-9 
" New  Australia  ” Colony,  163 
New  York,  94,  95,  96;  society  in, 
216;  opera  troupes,  230 
Newspapers,  number  of,  in 
Montevideo,  222  and  note 
Nicasia,  the  cook,  249,  260,  283, 

303 

Norway,  use  of  the  telephone  in, 
241 

Novio,  the  term,  213,  214 
Nutrias,  killing  of,  304-5 

Olinda,  hill  of,  35 

Opera  in  Montevideo,  229-32 

Oporto,  15 

Orange  trade,  125 

Otter  hunting,  304 

Oxen,  ploughing  vdth,  256 

Palermo,  228;  cattle  show,  108, 
iio-ii;  races,  109-10 
Palmitas,  234,  235,  239-40,  242, 
266 

Pampas,  scarcity  of  trees  on  the, 
167-68 

Pampero,  the  south-west,  influence 
of,  167 
Panamd,  105 
Pan-American  Bureau,  64 
Pan-American  Congress,  47,  60, 
61 

Paraguay,  Jesuit  mission,  70,  119, 
157-58;  cattle  ranching  in,  83; 
routes  to,  117-18;  China  and, 
similarities,  118;  state  of  society 
in,  120 ; colonists  of,  129 ; 
smugglers,  136-38 ; history,  146 ; 
currency,  146-48;  trade  with 


INDEX 


317 


Germany,  15 1;  industries  of, 
152-53;  people  of,  154-55. 
158-60;  government  of,  154-56; 
dictatorship  of  Francia,  157- 
58 ; numerical  preponderance  of 
women,  158-59;  prevalence  of 
vendetta,  160-61 ; future  of, 
162-63 ; European  immigration, 
163;  social  life,  180;  position  of 
the  woman,  201 ; Indians  of, 

255 

Parand,  Jesuit  mission,  70;  cattle 
ranching  in,  83-84 ; partridge 
shooting  in  the  Pampas,  299- 
301 

Parand  River,  69,  118,  163; 

navigation  on  the,  122-24,  ^27 
Paris,  Rue  de  Rivoli,  233 
Parque  Urbano,  197 
Passports,  stamping  of,  in  Lisbon, 
19,  20,  21 

Pasteurising,  85,  86 
Patagonia,  105 ; anti-German  feel- 
ing. 150 

Patio,  the,  in  architecture,  217 

Paulista,  70 

Paysandu,  172 

Pedro  II,  55,  56,  58 

Pedro,  house  peon,  260,  283-84, 

295 

Pei-taiho,  Peking,  56 
Peking,  13,  56,  217:  German 
Legation,  in;  railway  to 
Kalgan,  221 

Pelota  courts,  289  and  note 
Peludo,  the,  259  note 
Peon,  the,  quarters  in  the  estancia, 
247-49;  work  of,  259;  feeding 
of,  260-62 ; gambhng  propensi- 
ties, 267-68 ; use  of  firearms, 
268 ; amusements,  268—70 ; dress 
of  the,  270-71 ; politics,  270-73  ; 
treatment  of  horses,  273-76; 
disregard  for  game  as  food,  302 
Pernambuco,  33—36,  58;  anti- 

German  feeling  in,  150 
Peru,  14,  70,  155  note,  224 
Petrograd,  Yalta,  56 
Petropolis,  32-33,  position,  55-56 ; 
the  German  element  in,  56-57 ; 
Palace  Hotel,  57 

Pheasants,  inability  to  acclimatise, 
301 

Piedmont,  settlers  from,  125; 

ploughing  in,  256 
Pigeon,  the,  309 
Place  de  la  Concorde,  185 
Pocitos,  209,  226,  228 


Poles  in  the  Argentine,  129; 
national  ideals,  154;  in  Monte- 
video, 229 

Policemen  of  Rio,  51-52;  in  the 
Chaco,  136-37;  of  Montevideo, 
220 

Policia,  Comisario  de,  subsidising 
the,  292-94 

Politics  on  the  estancias,  271-73 
Polygamy,  74-77 
" Poor  whites,”  297-98 
Port  Said,  143 

Portugal,  efiect  of  Brazil’s  pros- 
perity on,  15-17;  war  declared 
by  Germany,  22 ; influence  in 
Rio,  44-45;  cattle  imported 
from,  85 

Postal  arrangements  in  Monte- 
video, 221 ; in  Uruguay,  239 
Postal  Union,  the,  in  Rio,  46 
Potreros,  meaning  of  term,  260 
and  note 
" Pozzi,”  31-33 
Prado,  Senhor,  84 
Princess  Royal,  the,  10 1 
Puget  Sound, 28 

Pulperias,  267-68,  277-78,  283-84, 
287-89 

Quail,  the  American,  301 
Queen  Mary,  the,  10 1 

Raemaker,  Cartoons,  46-48,  113 
Railway  travel  in  South  America, 
169-70 

Railways,  the  Funchal  funicular, 
29;  Brazilian  79-83 
Rain,  attitude  of  the  South 
American  regarding,  232-33 ; 
efiect  on  means  of  communi- 
cation, 235-36;  the  peon’s 
hatred  of,  282 

Ramon,  295;  philosophy  of,  276- 
77;  dancing  of,  281 
" Rapide,”  the,  19 
" Recife.”  See  Pernambuco. 
Reconquista,  119 
Remates,  298-99 
Reuter,  15 

Rio  de  Janeiro,  Avenida  Branco, 
33.  49.  5^ ; a.ttitude  of  the 
Government  towards  the  war, 
37;  ships  calling  at,  39;  official- 
dom in,  41-47;  Club  Central, 
42,  48,  60 ; Raemaker’s  cartoons, 
46-48 ; cash  system  of  payment 
in,  46;  anti-German  sentiment 
in,  47-49, 61-62 ; Moderue Hotel, 


318 


INDEX 


49-50 ; Central  Hotel,  49 ; Inter- 
national, 49;  Santa  Theresa, 
49;  policemen  of,  51-52; 
Engineers’  Club,  52 ; shops  and 
cinemas,52~53, 232  ; the  Lottery, 
53-54 ; L^rgo  da  Carioca,  54-55 ; 
health  of,  55 ; United  States 
Embassy,  61 ; railways,  79-83 ; 
expeditions  from,  91 ; archi- 
tecture, 223 ; Consulate  General, 
224 

Rio  de  la  Plata,  118 
Rio  Grande  do  Sul,  49,  70,  83, 
119 

Rio  Maciel,  234,  242,  252,  259 
Rio  Negro,  166,  172,  303 
Rio  Uruguay,  172,  234 
Roads,  ne^  for,  in  Uruguay, 
235-38 

Rodrigues,  Carlo,  58-59 
Roman  CathoUcs,  loo-i 
Roosevelt,  Mr.,  64 
Root,  Mr.,  63 
Rosa,  General,  93 
Rosario,  93,  100 
Rosario  Railway  line,  170 
Rosas,  Don  Manoel  de,  192,  279 
Roulette  in  Uruguay,  197-98 
Royal  Mail  Service,  the,  23 
Rufio,  sheep-shearer,  290 
Ruiz  Montoza,  119 
Russia,  conditions  in,  187;  datchas 
of  Southern,  228;  the  Jew  in, 
268 ; funeral  customs,  281 

Sahara,  the,  30 
St.  Patrick’s  Society,  10 1 
St.  Vincent,  26,  31 
Saladeros,  172,  226-27 
Salto,  172,  284 
San  Francisco,  13 
San  Jose,  234-35 
“ San  Martino  ” model  farm,  84 
San  ~Ra.-ph3.el,  fazenda,  86-87 
San  Salvador  river,  266 
Santa  CataUna,  234 
Santa  Catharina,  German  colony, 
49.  70 

Santa  Lucia,  183 
Santa  Maria  la  Mayor,  158 
Santa  Theresa,  heights  of,  41 
Santiago  de  Chile,  216,  230 
Santos,  customs,  26;  German 
influence,  89 ; the  " Sportsman  ” 
restaurant,  89-90 ; position,  90 ; 
expeditions  from,  92 
Santos  Railway,  79 
Santcs  Trawler  Coy.,  89 


Sao  Paulo,  33;  people  of,  68—71 ; 
Avenida  Paulista,  69 ; the  social 
code  in,  72-74 ; Theatre  Munici- 
pal, 76 ; public  institutions,  76- 
79 ; the  Bu  tan  tan  Institute,  77 ; 
“ &n  Martino,”  84 ; cost  of  land 
in,  87-88;  war  expenditure  in, 
88 ; the  " Rotisserie  Sports- 
man,” 89 ; at  Santos,  90 
Sao  Paulo  Railway,  169 
Sarandi,  209,  213 
Scandinavia,  the  Gothenberg 
system,  197 

Scent,  the  Brazilian’s  love  for, 

36-37 

Schools,  primary,  179-80 
Sexes,  relations  between  the, 
121-22,  131-32,  159-60 
Shanghai,  13;  the  model  settle- 
ment at,  93  note  ^ 

Sheep,  farming  of,  88;  increased 
price  of,  261—62  ; buying  sheep- 
skins, a transaction,  265-66 ; 
sheep-seUing,  287-88 
Sierra  do  Mar,  68-69 
Sinn  Fein,  loo-i 
Skunk,  the,  305-6 
Smillie,  28 
Snipe,  302 

" Solis  ” Theatre,  Montevideo, 

230-31 

" Son  of  the  Soil,”  laws  guarding 
the,  258 

Soriano,  8,  234,  252 ; value  of 
land  in,  253-55;  fur  trade  of, 

305 

Spain,  feeling  in  the  Argentine 
towards,  106 ; yoke  of,  thrown 
off,  108 ; conquest  of  Paraguay, 
120 

Spanish  blood  in  South  America, 
129,  155-56,  160,  171,  258,  267 
Spanish  language,  modification  in 
South  America,  125 
Sparrows,  English,  302 
“ Spurlos  versenkt  ” incident,  the, 
112 

Squatters,  225-56 
Stechy,  Father,  10 1 
Stegomyia  Calopus,  the,  55 
Streets,  naming  of,  105-6 
Sun-Yat-Sen,  196 
Sweden,  the  telephone  in,  241 
Swtzerland,  government  of,  186 
Syrians,  trading  concessions  to,  99 

Tacuaremb6,  253 
Tatu,  the,  259  note 


INDEX 


319 


Taxes  in  Brazil,  45-46 
Taxis  in  Rio,  51 

Telephone,  need  for  the,  on  the 
estancias,  238-42 ; arrange- 
ments in  Uruguay,  240 
Tennessee,  U.S.S.,  42 
Tennyson,  S.S.,  38—39 
Theatre  customs  in  Montevideo, 
229-32 

Times  (The),  issue  in  Rio,  46; 
Senhor  Rodrigues  and,  58-59; 
the  Buenos  Aires  correspondent 
on  enemy  trading,  98-99 
Tirpitz,  von,  65 
Tokyo,  Chusenji,  56 
Toledo,  168 

Trans-Siberian  Railway,  13 
Trees,  scarcity  of,  167-^9 
” Turcos,”  the,  96-97 
“ Turkish  importers,”  trading  con- 
cessions to,  99 
Twickenham,  21 

Ukraine,  steppes  of  the,  167 
United  States,  declaration  of  war, 
37,  48 ; attitude  towards  the  war, 
60-61 ; meat  trade,  84 ; effect 
of  declaration  of  war  on  Ger- 
man trade,  98 ; Irish  politics  in 
the,  loi;  use  of  the  cinema  in, 

135 

“ Uriquiza  ” Theatre,  the,  231 
Uruguay,  the  social  code,  72 ; 
cattle  ranching,  83;  value  of 
land  in,  88,  253-54:  politics, 
102,  190-94,  200 ; value  of  the 
dollar,  115-16;  the  fight  against 
Paraguay,  146;  coffee  trade  of, 
152;  immigration  into,  163; 
transport  arrangements,  172- 
73;  prosperity  of,  185:  the  new 
House  of  Congress,  187-88;  law 
and  government  in,  187-88; 
represented  at  Versailles,  194 ; 
constitution,  194—95 ; need  for 
better  transport,  195-96,  236- 
42 ; public  gambling,  197-99 : 
relations  between  the  sexes  in, 
201-2;  the  calle  of,  235;  laws 
concerning  children,  258;  hares 
in,  302-3 


Uruguay  Central  Railway,  166, 
169-70,  221,  234 
Uruguay  River,  172,  234 

" V ” BOATS,  route  to  South 
America,  39 

Varela,  Dr.  See  Acevedo. 

Vedia  y Mitre,  Professor  de,  195 
Vendetta,  160-61,  290-92 
Versailles  Conference,  194,  197 
Vestris,  ship,  40 
Viera,  Seiior,  186,  192 
Vigo,  55 

Villa  Formosa,  19 
Villeta,  123,  125 
Vital  Brazil,  Dr.,  77-79 

Wallingford,  243 
Warrior,  the,  10 1 
Washington,  politics,  64 
Water,  stagnant,  rules  concerning, 
55 

Waterton,  on  Pernambuco,  2,  35 
Wellington  in  Portugal,  17 
Welt-politik  in  Petropolis,  57 
White  ensign,  the,  25 
White  Slave  traffic,  75 
Wild-fowl,  302-3 
Wilhelmina,  Queen,  203 
Wille,  Herr,  48-49 
Wilson,  President,  62,  63,  189 ; and 
Dr.  Acevedo,  194,  196;  the 

Monroe  doctrine,  186,  200 
Woman,  social  position  of  the 
Brazilian,  72-74  ; numerical  pre- 
ponderance in  Uruguay,  158- 
60 ; her  position  in  South 
America,  1 89,  202  ; the  unmarried 
mother  in  Uruguay,  199-200; 
in  Montevideo,  231-32;  the 
native  woman  and  the  moral 
code,  249-50 ; sufferers  from 
"camp  rot,”  286-87 
Wood  fuel  for  railways,  168-70 

Yalta,  Petrograd,  56 
Yangtsze-kiang,  the,  118 
Yerba.  See  Mate. 

Yokohama,  13 

Zebu  stock  of  cattle,  85 


Printed  in  Great  Britain  by 
Richard  Clay  & Sons,  Limited. 

BRUNSWICK  ST,,  STAMFORD  ST.,  S.E.  T, 
AND  BUNGAY,  SUFFOLK. 


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